


Magica! Mitakihara Swim Club

by darth_fluffy



Series: Everybody Makes a Contract With the Pool [1]
Category: Free!, Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Crossover, Drama, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Free! AU, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Romance, Shoujo-ai, for my next trick i will turn sad magical lesbians into (relatively) happy swimming lesbians, no prior knowledge of Free! needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3941374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_fluffy/pseuds/darth_fluffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Little Mermaid, or so the story goes, gave up her watery home, her tail, her very soul, all for the man she loved. With no voice to confess her love to the prince, she could only watch helplessly as he chose another girl, leaving her alone in a world where every step felt like glass.</p><p>But when the fiery Sakura Kyoko dives back into her life, Sayaka just might find herself growing a tail once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just An Ordinary Person

The four of them smile down on her from the shelf above her bath, the picture dusty with time: Kyoko, her gangly twelve-year-old swimmer’s arms sticking out of an oversize strawberry, Mami, clinging onto Kyoko’s stem for dear life in an attempt to prevent her giant cheese wedge from toppling her backwards into the pool, Madoka, raising her glittery pink princess wand high above her head as if to cast some magic spell, and Sayaka herself, striking a jaunty pose in between Kyoko and Madoka, her rainbow mermaid’s tail leaving a bright smear on the pavement.

In the end, the dye ran, and everyone went home from swim practice Technicolor that day.

_A mermaid… with a knight’s helmet… I sure was a crazy kid._

But that was a long time ago, and she’s not Mitakihara’s own personal mermaid anymore. She’s just…

_When you’re ten, you’re a prodigy._

_At fifteen, you’re a genius._

_When you’re twenty… I guess you’re just an ordinary person._

She adds another squirt of gel to the bath, causing the water to look more like bedazzled antifreeze than anything else.

_I guess I hit ordinary a few years too early, huh? Guess I’m just a go-getter._

Sometimes, Sayaka wonders if the Little Mermaid ever regretted her wish, if she ever looked back at the sea and thought of the three hundred years she _could_ have had, free beneath the waves, were it not for the sake of a man who never loved her back.

_Did she sit on the rocks, holding her voice in her hands and think about just how dumb she’d been?_

Her phone buzzes; a text from Madoka.

_Sayaka-chan, where are you? We’re orientating the new first-years today, you can’t be late!_

Miraculously, she manages a reply without electrocuting herself.

_Wouldn’t dream of missing it! Gotta show the incoming kids some of that Mitakihara High pride!_

With a sigh, she pulls the plug and watches the glitter and foam spiral down the drain.

***

Miki Sayaka likes to think she has a pretty high tolerance for other people’s bullshit, but when the kid she’s showing around decides to test and see if the walls are _really_ made of glass, she wastes _absolutely_ no time in hauling him to the nearest relevant authorities.

And now she’s stuck here, walking Mitakihara High’s crystalline halls, a washed-up mermaid with nowhere to go, nothing to do.

After all, it’s not like the school has a swim club.

She pulls her phone out of her bag and fires off a quick text to Madoka. _Guy I was with decided it’d be cool to act like a little shit, mind if I hang with you?_

 _Sure! :)_ comes the reply. _The girl I’m with is an absolute sweetheart- I’d LOVE it if you met her. P enthusiastic about finding her onee-chan here though- no idea who._

Sayaka grins. _What, you’re not good enough?! I was COUNTING on you!! :D_

_I’ll have you know I’m Mitakihara’s reigning tour guide champ, Sayaka-chan ;) I’m outside in the courtyard with her_

_Tour guide BOSS haha. B there in 1 min!_

***

Sayaka isn’t sure just _what_ she expected of Madoka’s “absolute sweetheart” middle-schooler, but this was definitely _not_ it.

For one, she’s wearing a bright orange woolen poncho and a thick brown hat. In April.

And second, she’s got two string cheese sticks rammed into her mouth, looking to all the world like some sort of mutant walrus and all the while demonstrating an impressive ability to talk Madoka’s ear of with her mouth full.

 _Were_ we _this stupid back in middle school?_

“Oi! Madoka!” she calls over the din.

Madoka comes running and the other girl follows, her red-ribboned pink pigtails bobbing in time with her footsteps. “There you are, Sayaka-chan!” Motioning to the other girl, she says, “Sayaka-chan, this is Momoe Nagisa. Momoe-san, this is-“

The younger girl turns to look at her, a clarity that belies her childish appearance in her big orange eyes. “Miki Sayaka. Onee-chan’s told me a lot about you.”

Madoka and Sayaka exchange a glance, surprise flickering across both their faces. _“Onee_ -chan?” Sayaka echoes.

In hindsight, she probably should have braced herself for Nagisa’s next words.

“Yeah, isn’t Mami the greatest?”

***

After a hurried few minutes, in which Nagisa confirmed that she was in fact the recently acquired foster sister of one Tomoe Mami and that the latter had recently transferred to Mitakihara High, then promptly taken of with a shout of “C’mon! I’ll take you to her!”, Sayaka finds herself racing through the crowd alongside Madoka, Nagisa, and _way_ more questions than answers.

 _Is Mami still swimming? She_ can’t _be- there’s no swim team here._

Another one of them who’s lost her fins.

 _More importantly, if she_ was _here, then why didn’t she try and contact us?_

“ONEE-CHAN!”

Sayaka’s got to hand it to her, Nagisa’s got some _lungs._

“Nagisa-chan! It’s nice to see you! How’ve you been liking the school?” Mami says, getting up from the nearest lunch table.

She’s alone.

She’s _alone,_ and it’s so jarring, so _different_ from the vivacious, strong Mami that Sayaka once knew, that she feels a chill run down her spine.

_Mami…_

“It’s _great!_ And so pretty too! And you’ll _never guess who I found!”_

Turns out, Mami doesn’t have to.

The blonde raises her head, and a pair of golden eyes stare straight into Sayaka’s own.

“Madoka? _Sayaka?”_

***

***

Fifteen minutes later, Mami’s securely tucked her old friends into her booth in the lunchroom and treated them each to sundaes, all the while apologizing that they weren’t homemade.

_Heh. Some things never change._

“…So when Mom came home that night, she found _all_ those liquor bottles poured all over the floor, and it turns out Tatsuya was pulling a prank, so me and Dad wound up staying awake until 1 am to clean it up, and then I go upstairs and find these little paw prints, turns out Amy had stepped in it…” Madoka is saying.

“Moral of the story,” Sayaka says with a grin, “drunk cats are bad news.”

Mami gives an _I can feel your pain_ look. “I _bet.”_

“And little brothers.” Sayaka’s grin widens. “Right, Madoka?”

“I wouldn’t got _that_ far,” Madoka protests with a face full of mock hurt. “True, he can be stubborn, and sneaky, and a bit of a prankster…”

“A bit of a pain in the ass…”

The three of them laugh, and… for a second, it’s just like old times.

For a second.

Until Nagisa, apparently taking some offense at younger-sibling bashing, decides to drop a figurative bomb.

“Sayaka-san, Madoka-san, you guys are on the swim team, right? Can I join?”

Sayaka sucks in a breath, her throat suddenly coated in desert sand, sand that tastes of guilt and regret and a thousand different _what ifs._

“Sayaka-chan…” Madoka’s voice is soft, hesitant, a whisper lost in the air, “…isn’t swimming competitively anymore.”

Mami makes a small, shocked sound in the back of her throat. “Sayaka… is this true? You loved swimming so _much_ … and you were our best…”

Sayaka stabs her spoon downwards into her ice cream, creating a small pool of melted red reminiscent of a frozen dessert murder scene. “It’s true. I’m not. And I _really_ don’t want to talk about it.”

Mami opens her mouth as if to speak, then closes it again, looking for all the world like a fish trying desperately to breathe.

 A stiff silence falls over their table, broken only by Nagisa’s meek “Aww! I really wanted to swim with you guys next year!”

She gets no response.

“… Because, you know, Mami says you’re the _greatest_ and all…” Nagisa babbles to no one in particular, shoveling ice cream in her mouth as if to fill the hole in the conversation, “and I heard they were tearing down the old swim club that you guys went to back in middle school-“

Three heads whip around to stare at her, three pairs of eyes going wide. _“What?”_

“They- they _can’t_ be…” Madoka squeaks, drawing her hands close to her chest. “All those memories…”

“No, it’s true! My dad works for a construction company and he told me _all_ about it.”

 _They are._ Sayaka stands up and steps out of the booth, careful to keep her gaze hidden from the other girls. “It’s for the best, anyways. We’re not swimming anymore. We don’t need that place.”

Sayaka clenches her fist. _That’s what the mermaid said, in the story. She didn’t go back to the water._

_In the end, she couldn’t abandon her prince._

“Sayaka-chan? Are you alright?”

Sayaka lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and sits back down, unable to meet the worry sparking in Mami and Madoka’s eyes. “I’m _fine._ I just…”

“Well, I was thinking…” Madoka begins, “I was thinking that we should go check it out. You know, for old time’s sake- we made a lot of memories there after all.”

Sayaka throws her a _look. I just_ said _we don’t need it._

Madoka swallows hard. “Sayaka-chan, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to… and, I mean, I’m not sure Mami-san will want to come either…” She turns to look at the other girl, a question written loud and clear in her big pink eyes. “Mami?”

Mami glances down at her ice cream, then back up at Madoka. “Well… hanging around abandoned buildings isn’t really my cup of tea, so to speak, but hey, if you girls want to…” She nods her head, causing her blonde curls to shake. “Then I’m in. It can’t be right after class, though; I have to work.”

“Oh, you have a job, Mami-san? That’s cool; what is it?”

“I’m, ah… actually studying to be a lifeguard! I hope to get certified soon, in time for summer.” The bell rings, signaling the end of the school day and Mami stands up from the table, the other girls following suit. “Well, I have to get going soon, but how about we meet at the club at 19:00? Bring a flashlight.”

“Can I come?” Nagisa pipes up.

Sayaka’s seen enough of Mami’s Big Sister Eyes before to tell what her answer will be. “Shouldn’t you be studying hard for your exams so that you can get into a good high school?”

“Aw, c’mon, _pleeeeeeeasssee?”_ Nagisa whines, tugging on Mami’s arm.

“Well…” Mami sighs. “If you promise to study this afternoon, then I _guess_ you can come with us tonight.” Turning to Madoka and Sayaka, (and ignoring Nagisa’s background squee,) she gives a slight bow, and Sayaka and Madoka follow suit. “Sayaka-san, Madoka-san, it was nice seeing you again. I’ll see you guys tonight, right?”

“Right!” Sayaka exclaims, almost drowning out Madoka’s “It was nice to see you too, Mami-san!”

Mami turns to leave, her white heels tapping out a rhythm on the cafeteria floor. “Wait!” Sayaka calls after her.

Mami turns to face her, her ringlets springing as she does so. “Oh?”

Sayaka lets out a breath. “I just wanted to say…” Her words are rushed now, tumbling over themselves like a waterfall, “I think it’s really good that you’re doing lifeguard training, Mami-senpai. I’m glad to see that you’re still swimming… and they you’re helping others at the same time.”

_You’re a better person than me, Mami._

_You always have been._

Mami turns her head to look out the window at a pair of birds fling free through the blinding blue sky, a certain sadness in her eyes. “Um… thank you, Sayaka-san.”

***

The first thing she notices is that the cherry tree is gone.

She suspected it, of course. The building’s been condemned, after all; it’s only logical that they’d take out the plants along with it.

That simple fact regardless, it _still_ feels like a punch to the gut.

***

_“What kind of tree is that?” Kyoko asks her, all those years ago._

_If Sayaka’s water, Kyoko’s fire, all big red eyes, sharp teeth, and an insatiable determination to be the best that Mitakihara Swim Club has to offer, despite the fact that she can barely even stay afloat for more than five seconds._

That’s good, _a small, selfish corner of Sayaka’s mind thinks, dodging any and all attempts to force it down. She doesn’t feel like relinquishing that title. Not yet._

_“Cherry blossoms.” She places one hand on the smooth bark. “Like your name, Kyoko.”_

_“Awesome!” Kyoko exclaims, pumping her fist into the air as she does so. “It’s only been a few days and I’ve_ already _got my own tree!”_

 _Sayaka turns to glance at her newfound rival, blue flames burning in her eyes. “It’s not_ your _tree. It’s_ ours.”

_“Nah. I’m pretty sure it’s mine.”_

_“Is not.”_

_“Is too.”_

_“S’_ not _.”_

_“Tell you what,” Kyoko says with a smirk. “I’ll race you. First one to the top gets to keep the tree.”_

_“You’re on!”_

***

_Who won that day? I don’t remember…_

There’s not even a stump left now, just a hole, half full with muddy water from spring showers. Empty, dead dirt.

_…But from that day, we were true friends._

Somewhere along the line, the evening sky has become thick with heavy dark clouds, a line of warships obscuring the sunset. A low rumble of thunder sounds in the distance and the wind picks up, sending a gust of cold air to the four girls and a lonely trash bag tumbling across the pavement.

“Sayaka-san!” Nagisa’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts. She turns to see the other girl running across the empty parking lot towards her and Madoka, Mami following behind her. And she’s _still_ wearing that poncho.

“Okay,” Mami says once she’s reached them, “I brought flashlights, four for each of us, a couple of umbrellas, a first-aid kit, I have my cell phone in case any of us need anything, and…” She glances down at Sayaka and Madoka’s feet. “It’s nice to see you’re wearing good shoes.”

“And you brought your mom attitude too, it seems,” Sayaka quips, and is promptly rewarded with a gentle shove from Madoka.

“’Course. Who else would keep the three of you out of trouble?” Mami answers with a smile.

_It’s just like old times…_

“C’mon guys!” Nagisa calls from the entrance to the building, flicking her flashlight on and off, the light making crazy patterns on the pavement. “Let’s _go!”_

As they join her, another boom of thunder sounds, closer this time, and the sky darkens once more, dusk bleeding into night. Madoka casts her gaze to the dark, empty maw that had once bee a door. “Are we really going in _there?”_

Mami flicks on her flashlight and steps inside, letting the other three girls trail in her wake. “Don’t worry, Madoka-chan. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Yeah,“ Nagisa says, then adding under her breath, “except for the _ghosts.”_

 _“Nagisa,”_ Mami hisses under her breath.

“There’s ghosts…?” Madoka squeaks, a shadow crossing her face. “I guess it’s a good thing that I brought this, then.” She reaches in her pocket and pulls out a little bag filled with a suspicious-looking white powder.

“Is that...” Sayaka begins to say. And that’s when she seems Mami’s Protective Big Sister Eyes again, and decides to just sit back and enjoy the show.

“Madoka,“ Mami says seriously, turning to place her hands on the smaller girl’s shoulders. “Listen. I know you’re young; so am I. But you have to be carful with these kinds of things. I know it may not seem like a lot, but all it takes is one time, one mistake…”

Madoka’s eyes go wide. “What…? No! I…I’m not on drugs!” she splutters. “I just… It’s just salt. You know, to keep the ghosts away… _Sayaka, why are you laughing?’_

Nagisa grabs one of the bags away from Madoka and dips her fingers in it, only to promptly exclaim, “This is sugar!”

Suffice to say, the bags are doomed.

“Did… that kid…” Sayaka gasps at Mami, “just eat five packets of sugar in like ten seconds?”

“Yeah. Don’t ask.”

***

“Onee-chan! Look what I found!” Nagisa calls, and the other girls follow to where she stands, staring at a picture on the wall.

Four girls, four wide, brilliant smiles, one trophy.

“That’s you, isn’t it?!” Nagisa says, pointing to Mami. “And here’s Sayaka-san, and Madoka-san, and…” Her thumb rests on Kyoko. “And who’s this?”

“Sakura Kyoko,” Sayaka answers, her tone clipped, short. “She moved away at the start of our second year of middle school.”

The memories well up in her chest, forming a tight little lump: Kyoko’s face as she breaks the news, the way the sorrow and courage intermingle in her voice as she says the words, the way she leans out to touch the trunk of her tree- _their_ tree, by now.

 _“I understand,”_ she told her, and Kyoko’s eyes went wide at the words. _“And you know what? I think it’s really wonderful of you to do this! Leaving Japan to help your dad with his missionary work like that- you’re_ really _brave. Like you’re a hero in a a fairytale, going on a a quest to save the world or something like that.”_

She’d _believed_ those words back then, believed them with all her heart.

_“I know, right? I’ll go and save the world, and then I’ll come back to Japan and you and I can be swimming heroes together!”_

There’s a wish stored somewhere deep inside Miki Sayaka’s heart, a desperate, simple prayer to feel the same way about swimming as she did _then,_ back before Kyoko… and _him._

She hopes they’re happy.

_Three hundred years of good deeds earned her a soul, right?_

***

The pool is dry.

Sayaka isn’t quite sure _what_ she expected; a shining expanse of fresh, clean, blue water, a turquoise in dust, maybe. But now, it’s just something else that’s dried up.

“Hey Madoka,” Sayaka calls crouching on the edge of the pool, one hand dangling over the lip as if reaching for an ocean in the desert, “remember when we had that costume party? I went as a mermaid, and it turns out the dye hadn’t been set properly…”

“And my hair was striped green and turquoise for the next few weeks. Yes, I remember.”

“And Mami went as a cheese wedge, and she was _so scared_ thatit’d get wrecked in the water. Turns out it floated just fine,” Sayaka chuckles, clenching her fist around the nonexistent water as if to grab the memories from the air.

“Onee-chan, you went as cheese? Can I eat you?”

 _Seriously, does she_ ever _shut up about snacks?_

 Mami lets out a small chuckle. “I don’t think I’d taste very good, Nagisa-chan.”

And that’s when they hear it.

Sayaka shoots upright, her heart hammering in her chest. _Did I just…?_

_Calm down, Sayaka. It’s just the wind._

Mami swallows hard. “Well, girls,” she says, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of her voice, “I think that’s our cue to go.”

“You heard it too?”

Mami nods. _So it_ wasn’t _just my imagination._

_There’s someone else here._

There’s the footsteps again- closer this time.

Madoka lets out a small _eep!_ and buries her face in between Sayaka’s shoulder blades.

The sky goes white, followed a minute later by a loud _crack!_ of thunder that shatters the unearthly stillness like glass.

And, in that heartbeat of light, she sees it.

A dark figure at the end of the hall in front of them.

Sayaka’s eyes go wide. _Oh shit._

 _“_ Sayaka, Madoka,” Mami hisses. “Take Nagisa and _run._ I’ll hold them off.”

 _“No._ Not without you.” Sayaka clenches her fist around the handle of her flashlight, hoping against _hope_ she sounds braver than she feels. “C’mon, it’s four against one, right? We can take ‘em.”

Her words convince absolutely no one.

And then the figure steps into Sayaka’s flashlight beam.

Long red hair pulled back into a ponytail, a faded sea-green hoodie, and a pocky stick clenched between her teeth like a cigarette-

_“Kyoko?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is essentially the result of me looking at Rin and thinking he looked like a Rule 63 Kyoko, and then I remembered Sayaka's story was based on the original Little Mermaid, and... you know the rest.
> 
> Also, given that I'm an American who can't swim, writing a story about a Japanese swim team, I'd REALLY love a beta to help me make sure I get all the little details right.


	2. I'll Race You For It

_Kyoko’s back._

She’s _back_ and the four of them are _together_ again and the world is pounding in Sayaka’s ears, drowning out the ever-louder thunder, and for a lighting-flash of a second she thinks that maybe, _just_ maybe… that it’s possible to start the whole thing over again, that maybe she can finally forget about Kyosuke and Hitomi and that last race and just _swim_ again, Mitakihara’s mermaid returning to the water at last.

“Kyoko!” Mami says, her voice high and breathy, as if she’s not sure if the other girl is entirely _real_ or just a desert mirage. She drops into a bow, and when she stands again, Sayaka can see the slight glimmer of tears in her eyes. “It’s… it’s been so _long-_ how have you _been?”_

Kyoko gives Mami a look as if the other girl was something unpleasant she’d found on the bottom of her shoes and Sayaka’s eyes go wide. _What?!_

“Why are you _looking_ at her like that?!” Sayaka shouts, stepping forward to look the other girl in the eye, shock, confusion, and anger all forming their own miniature thunderstorm within her heart. “We’re your _friends!”_

Kyoko leans back against the wall and folds her arms over her chest, pulling the rest of the pocky stick into her mouth as she does so. “Hmph. That’s debatable.”

And that’s when Sayaka realizes.

Things aren’t back to normal again.

They never were.

She sucks in a breath, feeling distinctly like she’s been punched in the gut. “Well,” she challenges, steadily holding Kyoko’s glare, _“why not?”_

“Ah… let’s just say…” Kyoko’s mouth pulls itself into a smile, though not the wide, brilliant grin she wore the day they won that last relay, nor the smile written with sorrow and courage and hope that she wore the day she announced she was leaving. No. This smile is angry, mean. “I learned a few things while I was gone.” She pulls another pocky stick out of the box and chomps off one end with a sharp _snap!_ “You know all the friendship and teamwork crap that you and Mami used to keep going _on and on_ about? Well, I’m here to tell you _just_ how much bullshit that is.”

That’s when the sky opens up, tapping out a harsh, driving drumbeat of rain on the roof, sending spatters of water through holes in the ceiling and on downwards to shatter on the cold, cracked tile floor.

_No…_

_Kyoko wouldn’t say this… She_ wouldn’t!

Stories flash through Sayaka’s mind; stories of ghosts that took on a human’s shape, of witches and demons that kissed a soul and drove the anger, the grief inside their heart into a fever pitch.

“Why are you _doing_ this, Kyoko?!” she shouts over the noise of the rain. “When you- when you left, you said you were going to save the _world!_ Just you and your dad!”

_You said you’d come back and we’d be swimming heroes together._

_You_ promised.

The thing is, Sayaka isn’t sure which one of them broke it first.

A fat droplet of rain splashes onto Kyoko’s forehead and runs down her face, shimmering in the flashlight’s shine next to her hurt-sparked eyes.

She laughs, though there’s no humor in it. “Stop going on and on about the past like that. It’s really starting to piss me off.”

“Kyoko,” Mami says around the audible lump in her throat, “if there’s something bothering you, you can _always_ come to us. We’re all- _I’m-_ here for you.”

The look in Kyoko’s eyes says all that needs to be said. _Stop telling lies, Mami._

“Kyoko-chan…” Madoka’s voice is broken, disjointed- “…why are you fighting with us? We’re- we should be _friends_. We’re all on the same team…”

With an eyeroll and another mutilated pocky stick, Kyoko pushes herself away from the wall and stalks off down the corridor, her boots tapping out a heavy _thump-thump_ on the pool deck.

“Oh and one more thing,“ Kyoko, says, glaring over her shoulder. “Remember that trophy?”

And then she sees it, the glint of gold sticking out from under Kyoko’s hoodie.

 _How dare she..._ Sayaka starts forward.  “You can’t just _take_ it! That trophy belonged to _all_ of us, not just _you!”_ Her words are tumbling faster now, flying through the air at lightning speed. _We won it together, Kyoko- don’t you_ remember?

Kyoko smirks back at her. “’S’mine now.

“No, it’s _ours.” Like the tree._ “So give it _back.”_

Another pocky stick meets its end with a _crunch!_ “If you want it that badly-“ Kyoko turns to look at them, swiping her tongue around one sharp canine tooth as she does so- “then you’re gonna have to come get it.” She curls her hand into a fist and Sayaka’s eyes go wide. “Think ya got what it takes?”

Her heart is pounding in her chest and she can hear the sirens calling her out to sea and the answer is somehow both perfectly clear and impossibly dark.

“I’ll race you for it.”

“Whuh?”

Sayaka sucks in a shaky breath, her hand clenching around the handle of her flashlight.

_Am I… am I really doing this?_

“I’ll race you.” She swallows hard. “Whoever wins gets to keep the trophy.”

Kyoko shrugs. “Hmm. Sounds fair enough.” She folds her arms over her chest. “I go to a private school called Shitome Academy, over in Kazamino. We got a pretty sweet pool there; I can get you in. I’ll meet you there tomorrow night. Winner takes all.” She looks Sayaka up and down the same way a shark might regard a seal. “Though ya shouldn’t be _too_ hard to beat. Someone like you, who gave up her dreams over some guy? Don’t make me laugh.”

Sayaka flinches as if she’s been struck by lightning. _How… how did you_ know…

And with that, she’s gone, her long red ponytail swishing behind her, leaving four pairs of stunned eyes and three cracked hearts in her wake.

Sayaka isn’t sure which is worse, Kyoko’s betrayal or the fact that someone like _her_ can see through the cheerful and noble and loyal Miki Sayaka and down into _her;_ into that shadowy part of her soul that no one, not Madoka, not her family, not Mami, could ever reach.

_Sakura Kyoko…_

She clenches her teeth.

_I swear I’ll beat you tomorrow if it’s the last thing I do._

***

They’re walking home from the train station, Mami and Nagisa, having diverged from Madoka and Sayaka’s path home.

The rain, however, is still their companion, much to Tomoe Mami’s dismay.

She lifts one soggy former ringlet off her shoulder and sighs. _Ugh…_

“So is she the one Sayaka-san said you guys used to be friends with in middle school? Sakura Kyoko?” Nagisa says, her words a knife in the silence.

Mami swallows hard, the words _“I’m Sakura Kyoko! I want to swim like_ you!” somehow still fresh after all these years. “Yes. She was.”

_She was my first ever friend._

“Oh, really? ‘Cause she seems like a _really_ mean girl. I can’t understand why you guys would wanna be friends with her.”

“She wasn’t always like that,“ Mami says, her voice suddenly so small against the drumming of the rain. “She changed.”

_The kind girl I knew then… she’s gone._

_Now, she’s just an uncouth, greedy girl with a bad attitude._

Nagisa’s house- hers, too, she supposes- comes into view, and the two girls round the bend.

_Kyoko’s harshness, Sayaka quitting swimming, that lost look in Madoka’s eyes… I let them down._

_Kyoko, Sayaka, Madoka… I’m sorry. I let you down._

She watches as Nagisa runs through the front door of her house with a squeak of  “I’m sorry, Dad! I didn’t mean to stay out so late!”

_And Nagisa… I’m sorry, too._

***

She writes the letter later that night, the steady pounding of the rain her only companion, the characters falling onto the paper hurriedly, sloppily, almost comical in their ungracefulness.

_Kyoko-san,_

_It was so wonderful to see you last night; I’ve missed you these past three years. It’s just not been the same without you here._

_Listen. I can tell you must be having a hard time, but I want you to know that I am always your friend, and so are Sayaka and Madoka. We’re here for you and we always will be._

_So if there’s something bothering you, then_ please _, feel free to come to us. It’s no good arguing when we can just talk it out; like Madoka said last night, we’re all friends and we have been for quite some time._

_Remember-_

Her breath is suddenly heavy in her throat as she reaches to wipe the smudged ink away.

The next words are choked, strangled almost to the point of illegibility.

_~~you said once that I was like a sister to you, I’m hoping you still feel the same, so PLEASE. come back and be the old Kyoko again~~ _

With a sigh, Mami flips off the light. She’ll have to correct the letter in the morning.

 _...Could I really be friends with them again?_ she thinks, lying there in the quiet dark. _Swimming was always the thing that brought up together- and now…_

She gives the old, knotted rope bracelet on her left wrist a twist, watching as the jewel in the center of its flower charm catches the flickers of lighting, a golden ember in the dark.

_I haven’t swam competitively since that day- the four of us are over. Someone like me…_

_I’m not going to swim with them again, am I?_

She turns onto her side and clutches the blankets to her chest.

It’s not like she expected any different, but it still hurts.

“Onee-chan?”

A warm sliver of light creeps in the room and Mami looks up to see Nagisa, clad in cupcake-print pajamas and standing in the doorway.

“Yes, Nagisa-chan?”

“I just wanted to say... that if Sakura Kyoko was as nice of a person before as you said she was, then if anyone’s gonna be able to get her back to herself, it’s you. You’re a really warm person, Onee-chan, so she’s _got_ to come around!”

“I…” Mami murmurs sleepily. “…Thank you, Nagisa-chan.”

“G’night!” The door slams shut with a _thump_ and the sound of Nagisa’s feet running down the hall.

With a sigh, Mami sinks back down into the pillows.

_Get her back to herself… can I really do that?_

Another flash of light from the dying storm, and then she _knows_.

***

The next day shines bright and clear, the storms of the night washed away on the breeze.

And Kaname Madoka just very much wants to study.

“’NEE-CHAN!”

Unfortunately, fate has decided to make her life difficult today.

“What is it, Tatsuya?” she calls with a sigh. “I’m _trying_ to study here!”

“You’re studying?” Tatsuya says as he peeks his head in the doorway. “Oh, sorry, ’Nee-chan. I thought you were reading those stupid girly mangas with all those boys kissing and flowers everywhere.”

Madoka gives her little brother a _look. You weren’t supposed to know about that._

“Anyway,” Tatsuya continues, “There’s someone at the door for you- is she your girlfriend?”

“What?! I don’t… we’re not like _that…_ it’s not Sayaka, is it?”

“No, she’s blonde and an M-something. Really pretty, too- can she be _my_ girlfriend?”

“Tomoe Mami?”

“Yes! That’s it!”

Madoka pushes herself off her bed and starts down the stairs, heedless of Tatsuya’s, “Y’know, if you combined a bunch of boys kissing and swimming, _then_ you’d have something…”

***

“Hi, Mami-san!” Madoka calls as she descends the stairs.

“Good, afternoon, Madoka-san,” Mami responds with a polite bow. “If it’s not to much of a bother, I’d like to talk to you. _Privately,”_ she adds with a glance at Tatsuya, who’s snuck down the stairs after his sister and is now attempting to get as much ice cream as possible without Madoka noticing.

 _“Tatsuya,”_ Madoka hisses. _“No_ ice cream before dinner. You know what Mom and Dad said.”

“Aww!” Tatsuya protests, running over to them. “But how am I s’posed to impress Mami-san? I gotta show off my ice cream skills!”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry,” Mami says with a smile. “You’re very dashing.”

Tatsuya’s eyes practically bug out of his head. _“Really?_ THANK YOU, MAMI-SAN! Will you be my girlfriend now!?”

“Well…” Mami has to close her lips to prevent a giggle from escaping. …”Maybe when you’re older, Tatsuya-kun.”

“I’m getting older every _second!”_

“Let’s try when you’re out of elementary school,” Mami tells him as she and Madoka head outside to the back garden, both laughing under their breath.

“He’s changed a lot,” Mami says. “The last time I saw him, he was still in diapers.” They reach the garden bench and the two of them sit down.

Mami gazes up at the sea-blue sky as if she’s looking for something that has long since flow away, lost on the breeze. “A lot can change in three years, huh?”

Her smile is fading now; strained and cracked as if it’s been pulled apart from within- or maybe it was _always_ that way to begin with, and Madoka’s just never noticed.

_A lot can change in three years..._

The memories well up inside her mind like the swell of a sea-borne storm; the old pool, Kyoko’s face, twisted with contempt as she boldly denounced her old friends.

_Kyoko-chan…_

Madoka can remember a time when the world was simple, where your friends would be your friends and mean people were mean people, and that was that. Angels and demons, cut and dried.

It never occurred to her that a friend could _fall._

_…I want you to be your old self again._

“Are you thinking about Kyoko?”

Madoka nods, her throat too choked to say anything else.

“To tell you the truth-“ Mami’s chest heaves with a breath that’s far too heavy for her to bear- “that’s actually what I came here to talk to you about.”

“Oh, really?” Madoka teases, in a vain attempt to lighten the mood. “I thought you came over so my little brother could hit on you.”

Mami chuckles, then bows her head, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “You see, I went to visit Kyoko-san at her school this morning- she wasn’t lying last night, by the way. She really _is_ back in Japan, and she really _does_ go to Shitome Academy.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“She... she declined my visit, and there’s no way to get in touch with a student if they don’t accept the visitor. I did leave a letter for her, though…” Mami looks down at her hands, then back up to meet Madoka’s gaze again. “…You know, Madoka-san, I’m sorry. I should have asked for you and Sayaka-san’s input on the letter, it should have been from all three of us, not just me. “ She shakes her head, causing her curls to bounce in the breeze.

“Oh, Mami-san, you don’t have to be sorry, “ Madoka says, reaching forward to take the other girl’s hands in her own. “I… you knew her before she joined the swim club, right?”

Mami nods. “Before I met her… I was alone. She was my first real friend.”

There’s that word.

 _I wish… I wish that Kyoko-chan would go back to being friends with us again, that we could go back to the way we were. I wish it with_ all my heart.

“Then it makes sense that you to should have a special letter, right?” Madoka says, trying to bring the smile back to her face. “After all, you’ve been friends with her the longest of any of us!”

“But if I can’t help her when it counts, then what’s the _use?”_

Madoka has no words for her.

The two of them are silent for a while, the only sounds the wind rustling the barely-budding branches and Tatsuya inside the house playing some sort of elaborate war game with his Pretty Cure figurines.

“Madoka,” Mami says at last, “I have an idea.”

“Like… what kind of an idea?”

“Last night, before I went to sleep-“ There’s a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth now, though not the practiced, polite smile she wore earlier. This one is different, woven with a golden thread- _hope._

“I had an idea about how we could get Kyoko back to her old self.” Mami swallows hard and wraps her right hand around her left wrist. “I was thinking that if the four- _three-_ of us started a swim club, here at Mitakihara High…”  
“…Then it might remind her of the old days, before she moved away? That’s a _great_ idea!” Madoka exclaims, only for her face to fall a second later. “Only… I’m just not sure what Sayaka-chan will think about it, though… she doesn’t want to swim competitively anymore…”

“Do you think she’d do it if it was for Kyoko?”

“I… don’t know. “ Madoka leans forward and rests her head in her hands. “… I _really_ hope she does, though... I haven’t ever seen her as happy as she was when we were swimming together.”

A memory swims through her mind; Sayaka and her, standing at a bus station heavy with rain, the other girl’s shout ringing in her ears like an auditory slap.

 _“You don’t know what it’s like! I’m doing the_ right thing _here, so would you just_ shut up _about swimming already! Nobody cares but_ you _.”_

 _“Sayaka-chan, please stop,”_ she said back then, hoping, _praying_ that her words would break through the thick shell of darkness that surrounded her friend. _“Cutting yourself off from the things you love- from the_ people _who love_ you- _that’s not the right thing to do, no_ matter _what you say. And if you keep going on like this, you’re just gonna hurt yourself, so_ please, _listen to me!”_

“If you don’t mind me asking-“ Mami’s voice is gentle, soft, a cool salve on the ache of her memories- “what happened to make Sayaka-san quit swimming?”

Forget about the salve.

“Well…” Madoka begins, her voice caught in her throat. “…The thing is, it’s really not my story to tell…”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell if you don’t want to,” Mami says in a rush. “I mean, you’re right. I shouldn’t have pried.”

Madoka opens her mouth but no words come out, a once-bountiful spring, now dry and lifeless. _If Mami and Kyoko hadn’t left us back then… then maybe Sayaka would still be swimming._

_I’ll ask Sayaka if I can tell Mami the story- that’s what I’ll do._

“I understand the way you feel,” Mami says. “There are things that I’m not willing to share, too.” She raises her left hand off the bench and folds it in her lap, and that’s when Madoka sees it- the thick, knotted rope bracelet wound around her let wrist.

It’s not fancy rope- it’s the kind of rope that’s used to tie up boats, and it’s _easily_ the least glamorous thing that Madoka’s ever seen Mami wear.

“So… are we going to ask Sayaka-chan if she wants to join the swim club, right?”

Mami’s staring down at its flower charm as if the honey-gold jewel in its center contains her very soul. “Forget it. It was just a silly idea in the first place. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Wait…” Madoka’s mouth forms a small O at Mami’s words. “What? No!”  She turns to wrap her arms around the other girl. “No, seriously, I think it’s a _really great idea,_ and I’ll convince Sayaka-chan to join the club, and then… and then the four of us will be together again!”

“Do you really think she’s going to agree to join?”

 “Well, um…” Madoka leans back, breaking the hug, and looks down at her hands. “I don’t know, but…” _A golden thread._ “We can always hope, can’t we?”

 _Even though I was never much of anything in the old days, was always the weakest swimmer… maybe,_ just _maybe, if I really try, put my heart into it, I can save Sayaka-chan this time._

_And Kyoko-chan and you, Mami-san, too._

She stands up, the wind fanning her pink twintails into two miniature fans, and extends a hand to the other girl on the bench. “Come on, Mami-senpai.”

Mami takes it and stands, and there’s a _strength_ in her eyes that Madoka hasn’t seen for three years. “Let’s do this!”

“To the new-“

“Improved-“

“Now with less calories-“

“ _And_ added fiber-“

“Mitakihara Swim Club!”

***

The only reason Kyoko even bothered to check her mailbox in the first place was she heard something along the lines of _food_.

And food there was, but even then, Kyoko’s starting to regret that decision.

“Sakura-senpaii…

Kyoko rolls her eyes. “What?”

“Could I please have a cookie?”

Kyoko proceeds to stuff three of the aforementioned cookies in her mouth at once and then manage a garbled, “No.” _These were a gift_.

_From a former friend who I don’t really give a shit about anymore, but hey, free food is free food._

Yuma does her _moe_ eyes. “Why not?”

“First thing you need to learn? Ya gotta take what’s yours.”

Yuma practically _wilts_.

 _There are two types of charity case girls here,_ she thinks. _Heartwarming little match girls like Yuma, and then there’s…_ me.

The letter that came with the cookies is long gone, ripped into shreds and thrown into the trash- and yet, somehow, the words still remain, tossing and turning in her mind like pebbles on a storm-tossed shore. _Tomoe Mami… you always were too soft._

_And that blue idiot is even worse._

***

 _“Wouldn’t it be great if we could swim together in the Olympics someday?” Sayaka asks her, one arm slung around Kyoko’s bony shoulders, her blue eyes sparkling to matched the pool on the TV in front of them “Can’t you_ see _it?!” The four of us, standing there on the podium, the gold medals hanging around our necks…”She pauses, as if lost in thought. “I wonder if you’d try and eat it, Kyoko-chan.”_

 _Kyoko playfully slugs her in the shoulder._ “HEY! _I don’t try and eat_ everything _I come across!”_

“Imagine, _though.” Sayaka turns her sparkling-pool eyes back to the screen. Dropping her voice to sound all grown-up and announcer-like, she says, “And the gold medal in the women’s medley relay goes to… Sakura Kyoko, Tomoe Mami, Miki Sayaka, and Kaname Madoka of Japan!”_

_Kyoko pumps her fist in the air. “Yay! Go us!”_

_“Do you really think we’ll get there?” Sayaka says, her eyes wide._

_Kyoko grins. “I don’t_ think _we will.”_

 _“I_ know _we will.”_

***

 _“And you know what?”_ Sayaka had said, back when she was still a child, “ _I think it’s really wonderful of you to do this! Leaving Japan to help your dad with his missionary work like that- you’re_ really _brave. Like you’re a hero in a fairytale, going on a quest to save the world or something like that.”_

She’d _believed_ those words back then, believed them with all her heart.

_You were wrong then… and you’re wrong now._

_And I don’t need you guys anymore._

_I’ll beat Sayaka tonight, and then I’ll never talk to them again._

A glint of golden light catches her eye- the trophy for the relay so long ago.

She still can’t tell why she hasn’t thrown it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Mami- gets ship tease with everyone- never actually shipped.
> 
> If you're wondering who Yuma is, she's a character from the spinoff manga Puella Magi Oriko Magica, and essentially winds up as Kyoko's surrogate little sister, and I needed a Nitori to Kyoko's Rin, and so...
> 
> Also, Shitome Academy is the school Oriko goes to in that same spinoff- so that should give you a clue about Kyoko's teammates. (and, yes, oriko magica is good. you should read it.)


	3. You're Still Not Over Him, Are You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title: Sayaka Has Issues.

The water stretches out before her, crystalline and beckoning blue with a siren’s song, an imperfect mirror reflecting the harsh gym lights above her and turning them into something beautiful, something _more._

She belonged in the water, once.

Sayaka curls her toes around the edge of the starting block, tensing her muscles to dive.

_I’ve been here before._

The sharp scent of chlorine, the lights of the pool deck, the rough edge of the block under her feet- it’s all familiar, like a childhood blanket or the warm embrace of an old friend.

She closes her eyes, and for a heartbeat, she imagines that she’ll open then again to see Madoka and Mami- and _Kyoko-_ beside her on the blocks, tied together by a love for swimming and by an ocean-deep friendship as eternal as the sky.

 _I- I want to go_ back _here. To this world!_

She wonders, if she were to see Madoka and Mami and Kyoko beside her, now…

 _Kyosuke. And Hitomi, too_ , she thinks. _The last time I swam, I hurt them._

_I shouldn’t have come back._

In the story, she remembers, the mermaid had to kill the prince if she ever were to come home.

_Swimming heroes together- yeah, right._

_I shouldn’t be here._

She launces herself off the block in one smooth motion, extending her arms above her head to carve a path through the air, her body a graceful C-curve.

If Miki Sayaka were to open her eyes at this moment, she would see herself soaring through the air, clad in swimsuit and goggles, her reflection distorted by ripples- yet somehow more true than any other mirror.

She keeps them shut.

Her fingers hit the water- and she’s _home._

_I’m sorry._

***

Her fingers hit the wall like a wave crashing against a rocky shore, and Sayaka finds her feet again.

She pulls her goggles off in one fluid motion and slams the palm of her hand down on the surface of the pool, sending a trail of glittering drops scattering through the air.

“Woo- _hoo!”_ she yells, earning her a few startled looks from the other gym patrons. “Still got it!”

She grabs the edge of the pool and hauls herself onto the deck, ignoring the rough concrete biting at her limbs and the way her shoulders tremble with fatigue. _Damn it. How many laps did I do?_

 _Too many,_ she thinks as she turns and flops onto her back, arms spread wide, her feet still dangling in the water. _If I end up losing to Kyoko from_ over _training, I swear I’m gonna punch the sun._

With a muttered “Uuuunggh…” she pushes herself to her feet and heads over to the towel rack.

_I need an energy drink. Or a chocolate bar. Or some chips._

_All three, really._

As she turns to leave the pool, she catches sight of her reflection in the windows- swim cap and goggles in one hand, her short blue hair wet and mussed, the white towel draped across her shoulders billowing out behind her like a white knight, a hero in one of the stories she read as a kid.

_Or something._

_“Someone like you, who gave up her dreams over some guy? Don’t make me laugh.”_

There’s that last little shadow of her past, a shadow with flame-red eyes and a sharp-toothed grin, a shadow that lurks in the back of her mind like a smoldering ember.

It burns.

 _Kyoko’s an asshole now,_ she thinks, reaching out to touch the reflection of a Miki Sayaka she’d long since wished away. _So I guess_ one _of us has to be the hero._

Sheturns to give the pool one last, long look. _After tonight- I’ll put all this behind me and move on._

_I won’t swim again._

***

By the time she leaves the gym, there sun is dipping low in the sky, casting stretched shadows over the world as Miki Sayaka checks her phone

2 missed calls, 14 unread texts- all from Madoka and Mami.

_Hey Sayaka-chan! Me and Mami had this idea- we were thinking that if the three of us started a swim club, then Kyoko-chan might get some of her old self back… what do you think?_

_I mean, I know you probably won’t want to join… but I thought I’d ask…_

_Did you get Madoka-san’s text earlier about the swim club? I would greatly appreciate it if you joined- also, are you still planning on racing Kyoko-san tonight? If so, I would like the two of us to come with you- there’s a lot the four of us need to talk about._

_Sayaka-chan are you there? Did something happen?_

_Did the swim thing put you off?... it’s okay, you don’t have to join if you don’t want to…_

_Sayaka, could you PLEASE pick up your phone? You’re worrying both of us._

_where ARE you!? Please, listen to us!!!_

_“Sayaka-_ chan!” Madoka’s voice in the message she left is begging and wounded and _desperately_ small, the sort of voice that calls up half-buried memories of a stormy night years ago.

 _Madoka’s voice pounding in her eardrums in time with the harsh driving rain, pleading,_ begging _her to_ listen, _to_ forget _the whole mess and start swimming towards her dreams once more._

She said a lot of dark things to Madoka that night.

Sayaka’s fingers tighten around her phone, almost as if she can _crush_ her memories down into sand, let the wind and waves wash them away to a far-flung land where she’ll never see or hear or _feel_ them again.

The message continues, muffled but still audible around Sayaka’s fingers. “Where _are_ you? I’m sorry about bringing up the swim club- just, _please,_ answer us! Come back!”

“Sayaka-san-“ Mami’s voice, smoother but no less worried- “could you _please_ answer us!? Madoka and I are _very_ worried about you, and…”

Her voice- no, not _breaks._ It _shatters,_ sending a thousand glittering shards across the floor.

The sound of tears is thick in Mami’s voice, and Sayaka swallows hard. _She’s- she’s changed._ “So _please,”_ Mami finishes, her voice choked. _“Listen_ to me. _Swim_ with us again. I don’t want…”

The message cuts off with a scuffling noise, as if someone ended the call in a hurry, then quickly dropped the phone onto something soft- fabric, perhaps.

 _Is this me? Did_ I _hurt Mami-senpai like this?_

_Do I always hurt people?_

Her hands are shaking as she dials Madoka’s number. _Please pick up please pick up please pick UP…_

 _“Sayaka-_ chan!” Madoka cries. “You’re _okay!”_

“Hey, Madoka,“ Sayaka says into the phone, “I’m _really_ sorry for giving you a heart attack, it’s just that I was at the gym for a couple hours. Y’know, training and stuff.”

“Training… swimming?”

Sayaka lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. _Swimming heroes together…_ “Yeah. I was.”

“Are you still gonna race Kyoko-chan tonight?”

“Like _hell_ I am!” Sayaka exclaims, tightening her fingers around her phone. “You think I’d let someone like _that_ treat my friends that way?!”

It takes her a second to realize what she just said.

Kyoko isn’t one- not anymore.

 _That’s right,_ she thinks, or forces herself to. _The girls we were back then- they’re gone._

After all, fire and water aren’t meant to meet.

 _Madoka’s swim club idea-_ seriously? _There’s no_ way _Kyoko’ll change back, not even for a billion yen._

_And Mami, and I…_

The dying sun’s rays alight on a forgotten puddle from last nights storm, turning the space around the mirror of the lone girl beside it the colors of flame, the blue of her hair in stark contrast to its symphony of crimsons and pinks and golds.

A sharp breeze, and the solitary girl’s reflection is gone.

_We’ve changed too much to come back._

“Sayaka-chan?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” she says into the phone. “Just kinda thinking.”

“So… about our swim club idea…”

“Hey, Madoka?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have we been friends for?”

“More than ten years- why?”

“And you really think you need to ask me that?”

“Point.”

The two of them fall silent as the wind picks up, ruffling Sayaka’s still-damp hair and sending an errant plastic bag on a lonesome, desolate pavement trek. In the sky above her, a pair of seagulls make lazy flaps, riding the stiff breeze into their infinite blue world, ever free.

_Stupid birds._

“…You’re still not over him, are you?” Madoka’s voice is soft and gentle, a warm breeze with the hint of a spring rain.

Sayaka closes her eyes as if to blink away the storm surge of memories inside her heart. “No. I’m not.”

“Sayaka-chan, what happened _wasn’t_ your fault…”

 _The sterile smell of a hospital, Kyosuke’s face heavy with tears, herself standing in a forgotten corner of the park-_ I _deserve_ him haven’t I done _enough- Hitomi’s hair splaying out around her head like a sea witch’s crown of kelp- “Yes!_ It _was!”_

The line falls silent and Sayaka sucks in a breath, hurt sparking in her heart. “Madoka!” she gasps into the phone. “I’m sorry I snapped. I just…”

She turns around to look at the gym behind her, its façade painted gold in the late afternoon sun like an ancient palace in the desert.

She swallows hard, her throat suddenly dry.

_I want to go back._

_I always have._

 “Ah, um…” Madoka squeaks at the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, I-I just...”

“No,” she says with a sigh. “ _I’m_ the one who should be sorry.” _I’ve hurt a lot of people._

“Listen, I know you guys want me to join your swim club, but… I just can’t go back, y’know? Maybe the two of you could find someone else and Kyoko could come back…” _Right. As if._

“So… you don’t want to be friends with Kyoko-chan anymore?”

 _“Hardly._ She might’ve been our friend once- but that was a long time ago. She’s rude, she’s selfish, she’s… there’s no _way_ I’d want someone like _that_ for a friend!”

It’s done. She’s said it.

That door is closed.

“I’ll race Kyoko tonight, but after that, I’m done.”

“You sure? Mami-senpai was really hoping you’d join, and well…”

“I’m sure.” _It’s right,_ she tells herself. _This is the right decision._

 _It_ is.

“Okay, then,” Madoka says, her voice weighed down with broken hopes. “I’ll tell Mami-senpai. Goodbye, Sayaka-chan!”

“’Bye!”

The line shuts off with a _click_ and Sayaka tucks her phone back into her bag, a strange sense of sorrow settling around her heart.

Any opportunity for self-reflection, however is promptly cut short as one of her avian companions, perhaps taking offense at being considered stupid, decides to unleash a payload

At the worst possible time.

And Miki Sayaka finds herself with an unfortunate new hair gel.

_“Damn!”_

***

Sayaka’s voice dies with a _click_ and Madoka lets the phone fall to her bed. It bounces once slightly, then settles.

_Sayaka…_

The black puddle of fur currently draped across Gogo-chan lifts her head with a soft _“Mmrrow_?”, setting her chocolate-coin eyes on her human as if to say _what’s wrong? Are you okay?_

“I’m _fine,_ Amy-chan,” Madoka says, reaching one hand out to scratch her behind her ears. “I’m just a little bit worried about my friends, that’s all.”

Amy stands up and steps off her stuffed seal bed and over to Madoka, draping herself across her lap and rubbing her head against her side. “ _Mmm_?” she chirps.

“See, the thing is, Kyoko-chan’s back in Japan... but she’s changed. A lot. And Sayaka said a lot of horrible things about her, about how she’s terrible and she doesn’t want to be friends with her ever again, and… I just…”

There are tears glimmering in her eyes now, turning the landscape of her bedroom hazy and distorted, as if she’s looking though an ancient spyglass found in a forgotten sea. “Sayaka and Kyoko and even Mami-senpai… they all _broke._ …I tried to help Sayaka so much, right after Kyosuke got hurt, but she wouldn’t _listen…”_

She bows her head to look down at Amy, her breath heavy in her lungs. “I asked Sayaka-chan to join the swim club with me, but she… she wouldn’t… and I…” Her voice is rising now, threatening to spill over its banks.  “And if Sayaka doesn’t join, I can’t help Kyoko- and Mami-senpai either…”

_In the end, I couldn’t help anyone. I was useless._

Amy twitches her ears as a pair of salty droplets hit them. “Well, Amy-chan, at least I could save you.”

***

 

The moon hangs low on the horizon, a celestial cheese wheel casting its silver shadows on the three girls standing outside Shitome Academy- Sayaka, her hair now bird-excrement free, much to her delight; Madoka, clinging onto Sayaka’s arm, her face lined with worry; and Mami, gazing up at the stars as if the far, distant lights could solve for her some great riddle, her flower charm glowing pearlescent in the moonlight.

_Is she here?_

Another girl stalks into view, her shoes making a slight _squish_ against the night-damp grass. Her hair’s pulled back into a messy bun and she’s wearing Shitome‘s pure white uniform, but the tie’s slung loosely over one shoulder and her shirt flies out in the cool night breeze, untucked and unbuttoned to reveal a red-striped racing swimsuit. The overall effect is less “prestigious boarding school student” and more “schoolgirl-themed stripper who’s way too enthusiastic about exercise.”

“Oh, you’re here,” she says with a dismissive smirk. “Didn’t think you’d show up- after all, it’d be more like you to roll over and die, _wouldn’t_ it, Sayaka?”

 _“Kyoko, “_ Sayaka hisses, stepping forward to meet the other girl’s knife-edged glare. “I’m here to beat you.”

Kyoko takes a bite out of the blue popsicle clenched in her hand, sending a crack running down its frozen length.

It’s the kind of popsicle you share with a friend, and Sayaka instinctively holds out her hand, only to let it drop a heartbeat later.

“Oh, you really think you can? That’s cute.” Another hard bite, another chunk missing from the popsicle, painting Kyoko’s lips a pale blue. “If you hadn’t wasted your dreams over some guy you liked, then maybe… but I guess we’ll never know. Shame.”

Sayaka balls her hands into fists, a miniature lightning storm in her eyes. “Why… _you_ …”

Kyoko folds her arms over her chest, looking at Sayaka out of the corner of her eye. “Should’ve just milked his bad shoulder, made him feel dependent on you. He probably wouldn’t have tossed you aside then.”

“ _Kyoko-_ chan!” Madoka squeaks from behind her. “Don’t _say_ such horrible things!”

Sayaka flinches as though she’s been stabbed and the world goes red around her and her and her fist is rising through the air-

Kyoko’s hand, grabbing her wrist hard enough to bruise.

Kyoko leans in until she’s a breath away from Sayaka’s shocked eyes. “Hey,” she says, swiping her tongue around her lips to lick away the blue, ”save it for the race.”

She lets her go with a slight shove and Sayaka staggers backwards, her mind a rushing waterfall, her body charged with static, the waves of her blood crashing against her heart.

“Ready?” Kyoko says as she tilts her head to glance at the other girls, her back turned to them now.

Sayaka can only nod.

“C’mon. But be quiet. I don’t really feel like losing my scholarship over you guys.”

As she follows Kyoko inside the building, Sayaka can only think of one thing.

Kyoko’s leading her back to the water.

She’s not a mermaid anymore.

Sooner or later, she’ll drown.

Drown in Kyoko and her eyes of fire.

Sayaka shivers.

***

Kyoko was _right_ when she said that her school had a pretty sweet pool.

No, not _right,_ Sayaka decides a heartbeat later.

She’d been being modest.

Eight lanes, Olympic sized, with a glass ceiling that reflects the stars, which dance on the water, lining the lanes with sparkles and making it look like something out of a fairytale.

It’s a swimmer’s paradise.

Sayaka hates it.

She hates the crystal ceiling, hates the fairytale swim lanes, hates the starting blocks and the little NO RUNNING ON THE POOL DECK sign behind her.

She hates this school fro bringing Kyoko back to her, but warped and weathered by time, twisted into something entirely different than _herself._

She hates the way her heart flutters as she looks over the water the pre-race adrenaline burning in her veins, lining her body with live wires.

Like the time when she was six and she and Madoka had tested what was so bad about dropping a hair dryer in the bath.

It’s the same, and yet different- Kyoko’s beside her on the starting blocks once more, except they’re not swimming a relay, nor a friendly club race.

This race burns hot, a wall of blue flames separating them now.

She hates this school.

***

 _“Thanks, “_ Mami told her, back when their friendship was newly-hatched and still breathing, _“but I’m not the fastest.”_

_“Then who is?”_

Kyoko turns to glance at Sayaka, poised on the block next to her, goggles down over her eyes.

There’s that familiar flash inside her goggles, the way her muscles tense in anticipation as if she’s a mermaid lost in the desert, straining for the chance to use her watery magic once more.

The same magic that captured Kyoko’s heart that first day at the swim club, the siren’s song that had led her here.

 _It shouldn’t belong to her,_ Kyoko thinks. It shouldn’t belong to someone who won’t _reach,_ who will sit by the water’s edge and stubbornly refuse to return still waiting for someone who never even saw her.

 _I’ll take it. I’ll take it_ back.

Mitakihara’s Mermaid and the Red Phantom, they’d been once.

She’d believed in a lot of kiddie shit back then.

_If I can’t win tonight…_

_No. I_ will.

 _I_ have _to._

She lost her magic a while back and she sure as hell isn’t going to let Sayaka keep her own.

“One hundred meters. Freestyle,” she hears herself say, and Sayaka nods in agreement. “Call it, Madoka.”

“But…”

“Just do it, will ya, Pinky? I’ve got something to prove here.”

“Okay!” Madoka says. “On three…”

“Ready…  set… _go!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the actual swimming and KyoSaya sexual tension have finally arrived! Whee!
> 
> ...It's not that much more blatant than actual canon RinHaru :D
> 
> And yes, there IS some symbolism behind the "seagull takes a dump in Sayaka's hair" scene, I'm just not going to tell you what it is. that ruins the fun.


	4. I Won't Look Back

They hit the water in unison, sliding in under the fairy-dust sea with the demurest of splashes, the water enfolding them, _welcoming_ them into that weightless domain.

As a cloud of bubbles obscures her vision, Sayaka stretches her arms forward to carve a gap through the water, forcing her way into that tiny ocean, a powerful current all on her own.

The mermaid, she remembers, turned into sea foam in the end.

***

Sayaka is _beautiful_.

The way she plunges into the water, still so graceful after nearly four years apart, the way her body slides through the water, undulating up and down as she starts her dolphin kick- she _belongs_ in the water every bit as much as she did back then, like a mermaid from a fairytale Kyoko read as a kid.

_Back when I was an idiot._

Sayaka’s beautiful.

She’s beautiful and Kyoko hates her for it.

She’s also ahead.

Damn _it!_

 _Your dolphin kick was always faster, Sayaka,_ Kyoko thinks as she surges forward, _but I’ll catch up on the stroke._

 _I_ will.

***

It’s her fingers that break the surface of the water first.

Sayaka turns her head to the side to grab just enough air to sate her crying lungs before launching into the front crawl, her feet sending up a glittering spray.

That electricity- it’s _back._

 _Reaching through the water as if to grab a far-off golden city, her outstretched hand slamming against the wall, four pairs of hands joined together and Sayaka can almost_ feel _the pulse pounding beneath the other girls’ skin, Kyoko’s smile- and her own- a flashbulb to rival the lights above the pool…_

_Even though this isn’t a real race… I never realized how much I missed competing until now._

She supposes that’s just part of atonement.

***

There’s a glitch in this mermaid’s dance _-_ fingers too splayed, elbows sticking out wildly, her kicks falling short of the fire she once possessed- and Kyoko surges ahead to claim the lead, a grin playing at the corners of her mouth.

 _You back at the kiddie pool, Sayaka? Or are you gonna swim a_ real _race?_

***

She turns to breathe and sees her.

For a heartbeat, their eyes meet, and Kyoko’s mouth stretches into a mocking grin. The other girl pulls ahead, leaving Sayaka behind, and then they’re both underwater once more.

_What?! She can’t...!_

Sayaka reaches out and _pulls_ , as if to capture the magic of that fairy dust sea for herself.

_You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you, Kyoko? Well, I’ll show you!_

_Kyoko’s fingers wrapped around her wrist, her eyes sparkling embers in the lamplike glow of the moon…_

_I… I_ will!

***

Madoka watches as her friends streak through the water, leaving twin tails of white foam behind them.

_Why is this happening? Why can’t things go back to the way they were?_

She turns to glance at Mami, whose mouth is set in a thin line as she watches the swimmers, her harvest-moon eyes heavy, as if to tell Madoka, _It can’t be helped. Neither one of them is willing to back down._

 _Why did you have to change, Kyoko?_ Why _?_

***

They hit the wall at the same time, the water rushing around them as they make the turn, two hurricanes in miniature surrounding two twin flames: one blue, one red.

***

It’s easy, it _is,_ to return to the water, to fall back into those familiar rhythms- _reach._ _Pull. Kick. Breathe._

The thrill of the race burns white-hot in her veins, and Sayaka wonders if it could burn away the darkest parts of her, if it could turn them to ash and wash them away on the tide.

Kyoko’s ahead of her and Sayaka’s blood is pounding in her ears- and for a second, she can almost _forget_.

She’s almost…

Free _._

 _That same thrill, in an older time, Kyosuke’s face contorted with pain-_ I did this- _Hitomi’s face, pale and clammy- she did_ that, _too…_

_Kyosuke, Hitomi, Mami, Madoka..._

_Kyoko... did I-_ will _I- hurt you too?_

But maybe it’s okay.

Maybe Kyoko’s the sort of person who _deserves_ to be hurt now.

_Yes. She is._

She increases her speed, throwing every ounce of energy into each stroke, her hands a pair of knives against the glassy pool.

She’s _the one who’s wrong. Not_ me _._

***

Sayaka’s magic is missing.

Her strokes, though still full of determination, lack the sheer power they once had, and Kyoko smiles to herself as the gap between her and Sayaka grows.

She’s doing it.

She’s beating Mitakihara’s Mermaid.

Beating her past.

Her father.

She wonders, if she were to look back now, would she see him? The Reverend Sakura, preaching what she’d once believed to be truth?

_I won’t look back._

_Not now, not_ ever.

 _The church door slamming shut with a_ you’re not wanted here, _the cold, lonely nights that followed, staring out in the sunset and wondering just_ what _she was worth, now, her tryout for Shitome’s scholarship program, her heart burning with_ I’ll do this I’ll prove myself I _will_ I _will-_

As long as she keeps swimming, she’ll be all right, she knows.

_If I don’t let the past catch up-_

A flash of blue out of the corner of her eye.

Sayaka, teeth gritted, jaw set, brow furrowed.

She’s gaining.

_Shit!_

_I can’t- I_ won’t _lose!_

Not to this last little shadow of her past, a shadow with blue-flame eyes and a stupidly honest grin she used to find bright and a grace in the water that once surpassed any other.

_Almost there- just a little bit more-_

***

 _I can catch her, I can- just a little bit_ more…

***

 _I’m better than her- I_ have _to be-_

***

 _You don’t_ deserve _that trophy- we_ won _it._ Together!

***

 _I won’t lose! Not to_ you!

***

Kyoko touches the wall first and just _floats,_ hanging weightless and free, her chest heaving.

_I won._

_I did it._

_I beat her._

A _sploosh,_ shortly followed by an “Oh, come _on!”_ announces Sayaka’s arrival.

***

_I should’ve won._

_Someone like_ her- _I should’ve_ won.

 _It’s not_ right.

Her every limb is trembling with exhaustion and her chest heaves and Kyoko’s standing in the lane beside her, one hand against the wall of the pool, her smile giving the Cheshire cat a run for its money.

“Oh, come _on!”_

 Kyoko reaches behind her head, yanks off her swim cap, and pulls the pin from her bun, letting her hair fall past her shoulders in loose, wild waves of fire. “Oh, don’t tell me,” she says, her voice tinted with a laugh. “You upset you lost? You really thought you stood a chance?”

“Well, y _ou_ were always slower in the old days!“ Sayaka pushes herself up on the lane divider, her voice trembling with rage. “ _You_ never _could_ match my times. _I_ should’ve-”

 Kyoko snorts. “You’re a real blockhead, aren’t ya? Throwing away your dreams like that, and then expecting the world to _reward_ you for-“

Sayaka’s eyes go wide. “You- you don’t _understand!_ Quitting back then- it was _right!_ I _had_ to do it!” Her voice is rising now, a tsunami of words. _“I_ did the right thing! Not like _you! You’re_ the one who let herself become a bitter, angry, horrible _bitch!”_

The shout echoes around the pool, piecing the silence like a knife.

“Sayaka-san, Kyoko-san, that’s enough,” Mami warns from somewhere above the water. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

Neither of them pays her any heed.

Sayaka swallows hard and looks straight into Kyoko’s eyes. “The _old_ you would’ve-“

Her words are cut short by a sudden _tightness_ around her throat- Kyoko, grabbing her goggles so hard she’s almost lifted clear out of the water.

Kyoko’s eyes flash and her grin dies. _“Don’t,”_ she says, her voice ice. _“Don’t_ say that. I was an _idiot_ back then. A stupid little shitheaded fool.”

She tightens her grip on Sayaka’s, pulling her closer, and…. they’re so _close_ now, close enough that Sayaka can feel Kyoko’s shaky breath on her face, close enough to drown in her glimmering eyes of fire.

A fat droplet of water pools at the corner of Kyoko’s eye and trickles down her cheek, leaving a silver track in the moonlight. “You’re _pathetic,_ you know that?” she hisses, every word scarred with long-ago wounds once more beginning to bleed. “It’s _you_ who doesn’t understand. You _never_ did. _You_ had it easy- but you threw it _away._ And for what? Because you were too busy playing nice? All goody-two-shoes like some sort of hero? You-”

“Shut _up!”_

_Splash!_

A glittering rain of droplets fills the air as Mami jumps in, each one holding up a tiny mirror to the three girls in the pool. _“Stop,”_ Mami says, giving Kyoko a _look_ that practically makes the pool freeze over. “Let her _go_.”

Kyoko does.

Sayaka falls back, hard, shattering that fairytale sea, the water wrapping its arms around her once more.

She hangs there, suspended, drifting, barely conscious of Kyoko and Mami’s faraway words.

The silvery moon hangs high in the sky and the stars dance through the ripples of water over her face and Sayaka wonders if she’ll turn into sea foam one day, too.

***

“Kyoko,” Mami says, her throat ironically dry for someone who’s standing in a pool, ”did you get my letter?”

The other girl responds with a barely perceptible nod. “What part of ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ do you not understand?”

Mami bites her lip, feeling distinctly like Sakura Kyoko has just taken an ice cream scoop and scooped out a chunk of her heart. _I couldn’t- I wasn’t good enough…_

_And now I’m alone again._

_If I hadn’t been so weak- if I wasn’t so afraid…. if only I was_ stronger…

She swallows hard. “Madoka, Sayaka and I are planning on starting a swim club at our high school,” she says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “so- consider this your formal invitation to join.” _Please._

“Aw, c’mon,” Kyoko says with a laugh. “Ya gotta be shitting me. You seriously think I’d leave behind _this-“_ she gestures around her- “to swim at your little kiddie pool club?”

Sayaka’s head pops up out of the water as if on cue. “It’s _not_ a kiddie pool club! We’re-”

Kyoko pointedly ignores her. ”And besides- what makes you think I’d want to swim with you guys again? All you _ever_ did was pull me down.”

Mami reaches out and places her hands on Kyoko's shoulders, hoping against _hope_ she feel the comfort in her touch. “ _No_. That’s not _true,_ Kyoko, and if you just look inside yourself, I’m sure you’ll see that-”

Kyoko ducks under the water with a _splash,_ pops back up in the next lane over, grabs the pool wall, and hauls herself out.

Mami’s heart makes like a ship in a storm and sinks. “Wait!” _Don’t you remember, Kyoko? All the times we laughed together- all the dreams we had, the memories we made- that first night I stayed over at your house, and I brought my computer and we stayed up late watching movies your dad would_ hate, _and then Momo found us, and we had to blackmail her with that frog stunt she pulled…_

Kyoko pays her no heed.

_I miss you- and Sayaka and Madoka too…_

She reaches down to rub her bracelet, ignoring the way the rope chafes her skin. _I haven’t swam since that day… but- if I could be with them again… I’d do it. All over again._

Kyoko pauses before opening the door and turns back to face the other girls. “Oh, and by the way, Sayaka, we keep the water wings right down that hall. Just in case you want to race again.”

“Hey!”  
The door slams shut, and one of them is missing once more.

***

Mami and Sayaka scramble out of the pool to join Madoka, who’s sitting slumped by the towel rack, looking much like a small creature who’s just narrowly escaped being run over by a train. “Sayaka-chan, are you alright? She… she didn’t hurt you, did she?”

 _She did._ “Hey, don’t worry about me,” she says with a smile she doesn’t feel. She gives her right arm a flex. “I’m pretty tough.”

“Sayaka-san,” Mami says, “can I ask you a question?” She’s take her sweater off to let it dry and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her now-soaked white button-down, revealing a lacy blue bra and sending the awkwardness meter through the roof.

“Um, sure. What is it?”

“I know that Madoka-san told me you had no interest in joining the swim club-“ Mami swallows visibly- “but would you by any chance reconsider?”

Sayaka’s eyes dart back to the pool, sparkling blue in the light of the full moon, a glittering jewel just out of her reach- the jewel where her soul truly lies. _I hurt you too, Mami, didn’t I?_ “Mami-senpai… I’m _really_ sorry. But I just can’t.”

“But… don’t you want the four of us to be together again? Swimming together, just like old times…”

 _I do._ “Well, it’s not like _Kyoko’s_ down with the idea either. I mean, even if I _do_ join, what are you gonna do about her? Tie her up and then bribe her with cake?”

Mami chuckles under her breath. “You know, that might not be such a bad idea. But seriously… I miss those days. Back when we knew the four of us would have each other’s backs, no matter what.” She walks over to the edge of the pool and crouches down, one hand dangling in that star-studded sea. “Do you… do you think those days could come back _?”_

Sayaka hangs her head. _They can’t._

_After what I did, to both of them…_

_But they’re happier now. Without me._

“You want to race Kyoko-chan again, don’t you?”

Madoka’s voice is soft, gentle, yet it cuts through her armor all the same.

“Of _course_ I do! There’s no _way_ I’d let someone like _that_ …” Her voice trails off. “Oh.”

Sayaka looks out over the shimmering pool, her voice strong and clear. ”All right. I’ll join.”

A little yelp of “Yay!“ from Madoka, and Sayaka rapidly finds herself in the center of a very tight, very warm, very _get-your-giant-boobs-away-from-me-Mami_ hug.

“You got me there,” she says with a smile, wrapping her arms around both of them.

_But once I beat her, I'll stop._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand HERE we start to see the main difference between Kyoko and Rin.


	5. The Same As Me

Sleep doesn’t come easily for her that night.

Her dreams are chaotic, images spiraling, flickering like flashes of lightning: _the wind rattling against a deadlocked church door, her heart heavy with_ where do I go now?; _Mami, shining in white and gold_ ; _Sayaka swimming through the water- no, she_ is _water, dazzling in aquamarine and white gold, a light to rival every star in the sky- then the water turns to blackness, and… they’re going down._

_Together._

_And the worst part of it is, Kyoko doesn’t mind._

Kyoko’s eyes snap open.

The steady sound of Yuma’s breathing fills the room and, just beyond the window shade the rose-pink tint of the dawn creeps in.

Kyoko turns her head to look up at that trophy, sitting on her desk in a position of undeserved pride, barely glinting in the morning half-light.

_I won it. I beat her._

_I’m done with them._

_Sayaka’s strokes, falling short of the speed she once possessed, the water that once nurtured her now pushing her away- and Kyoko ahead…_

_It’s_ right, she tells herself, lying there in the robin’s-egg light of dawn. _She won’t be in my way._

_I should be happy._

There’s that last little trophy-sized shadow of thought- a thought that, if _only_ she reached out and grasped that drowning mermaid, pulling her back up, then they would fly together into that infinite light….

She’ll only pull her down, Kyoko knows- she’s seen it happen-before, with Sayaka _(a café late at night, an email sloppy with heartbreak and jealousy and the most poisonous sort of anger)_ and… her, too, as well.

 _We were alike, weren’t we, Sayaka?_ she thinks, lying there in the quiet dark. _We both burned ourselves up for someone else._

_We were both swept away._

She clenches her fist around the blankets. _But I’ve become strong._

_I’m not like you._

_I’ll_ never _be like you again._

_And I’ll show them that._

*******

The sky glints down from above her into the stairwell, a doorframe portrait of blue just managing to catch the bottom of the roof’s white fence. The sun smiles down on her from the doorway, as if to say, _Come. Your friends are waiting for you._

The newly-christened official Mitakihara High Swim Club notebook clutched tightly to her chest, Mami hurries up the final few steps, her white heels tapping out a _clack-clack-clack_ against the cold tile floor. She steps out onto the roof, feeling the warm sunlight wash over her.

The high white fence encircles the rooftop like a lace patterned after a Gothic cathedral (though Mami would have preferred more floral patterns, less spikes), its spires framing the distant silver-glinting skyline of Mitakihara City.

And on the bench in the center of it all-

“Oi, Mami-senpai! _There_ you are!” Sayaka shouts, standing up and raising one arm in the air to wave.

With a small smile, Mami walks over to join her kouhais on the bench. “Sorry. I was running a little late.”

“Not really, no,” Madoka says with a smile, scooting over to offer Mami a spot on the bench. “It’s just that Sayaka-chan can get pretty impatient at times. Especially when she wants something.”

“Oh, _c’mon,_ Madoka.” Sayaka playfully slugs her in the arm. “I can be patient when I want to be. _Watch.”_

She closes the lid of her _bento_ and sets her elbows on the top, placing her chin in her hands and furrowing her brow. She gazes off into the distance, waiting for something that’ll never come.

_Especially when she wants something._

_The sorrow that flitted over Sayaka’s face as Madoka told her she wasn’t swimming anymore, her eyes gleaming as she looked over the pool, her arms around them tight, her voice clear and strong as she said she’d join the club…_

_She_ wants _this,_ Mami thinks.

_She always has._

_What_ happened _to you, Sayaka?_

_Were you the same as me?_

Memories flash through her mind: the water closing over her head, the last gasp of life slipping from her lips, leaving a trail of bubbles in their wake, her vision growing dark as the ropes close around her, a line of mourners dressed in white, and Mami, younger, standing there lost among the crowd, collapsed in on herself and wondering just _why_ she’s alive…

_And from that day… I was left alone._

_Sayaka… I don’t want you to be the same as me._

 “So,” she says with a smile, “are you done waiting?”

Sayaka puts one arm behind her head and stretches, her face settling into a relaxed grin. ”Well, I _guess._ If you guys insist.”

“So, without further ado,” Mami announces, “let the first official meeting of the Mitakihara High Swim Club come to order!”

She pulls her notebook- the calligraphied MITAKIHARA HIGH SWIM CLUB OFFICIAL NOTEBOOK on the cover and organized to-do list inside courtesy of Mami, the sparkly smiley face stickers, drawings of cheese and various sea creatures, and pictures of well-toned, attractive swimmers courtesy of Nagisa (Mami has to wonder just where she _learns_ these things)- out and sets it on her lap. “First order of business: club positions. I have some ideas of my own, but I’d like to hear your opinions on the matter.”

“I call captain!” Sayaka shouts, standing up into the bench and raising her _bento_ into the sky like a sword. “Swim on, girls! Muster your strength-“ here she slams one fist over her heart, the other tucked against the small of her back- “for the _glory…_ of Mitakihara High _Swim Club!”_

“Well, um, actually,” Madoka pipes up, “I was thinking Mami-senpai should be captain instead. You know, since it was _her_ idea in the first place, and she’s so organized…”

Mami blinks. _These girls… they would really want me as captain?_

Sayaka deflates. “Awww….”

“It’s okay, Sayaka-chan… you could still be vice-captain, you know. They have to do _lots_ of important stuff, like… um… uh…” Madoka glances at Mami, a silent plea written in her eyes: _help._

Sayaka chuckles under her breath. “Like what? Sit around and watch the paint dry all day?”

Mami smiles back at her. “I’ll have you know that you just insulted every vice-captain in the world. But seriously, though…” She gets to her feet, feeling distinctly like her heart’s a dam that’s about to burst. “Miki Sayaka-san, it would be an honor to have you as my advisor.”

Sayaka snorts. “Aw, c’mon, I was just messing with you. _‘Course_ I’ll be your vice-captain.” Her smile is earnest, bright, but falling just short of her eyes. “’Cause… Madoka’s right, y’know? You’re our senpai, after all, and you’re _way_ better at this stuff than me.”

Mami’s eyes flit away from Sayaka’s gaze, across the fence and to the sterling sky beyond. _You’re wrong._

_I’m not that strong._

She takes a deep breath and turns back to the other girls. “Okay,” she says, picking her notebook back up. “For positions, we’ve got me as the captain-“ the information is promptly jotted down- “Sayaka as vice-captain, and… well typically the four core members of a club would include a secretary, but…” _Kyoko…_ “We don’t have four members, so… Madoka-san, would you like to be secretary or treasurer?”

“Well, um,” Madoka says, “I was thinking secretary. You know, since I’m pretty good at taking notes and all….”  
“And… Madoka as secretary.” Mami writes it down. “Okay, that’s settled, then. Next up: we’re going to need a mascot. Any suggestions?”

Like most high schools, Mitakihara High has an official mascot- however it’s been a longstanding tradition to let each club choose their own.

Within limits, of course- those limits had been enacted the year the drama club picked Pipi-kun the Googly-Eyed Carrot as their mascot.

From below, the bell rings, signifying an end to lunch and any proto-club meetings. “And, “ Mami says, “as of right now, this meeting is officially adjourned. I’ll stop by the Student Council office after school and get the full list of club rules and the application. Madoka, you’ll get some mascot design ideas, right?”

“R-right!”

Sayaka waves as she and Madoka start towards the opposite stairwell. “See you later, Mami-senpai!”

Mami waves back, then heads back down the stairs, silently wondering just _what_ she’smanaged to get herself into.

***

“So, you got any ideas for our mascot?” Sayaka says.

The two of them are walking home from school, the babbling of the stream beside them a gentle melody to serenade the blue sky.

“Well…” Madoka says, “it’s not much, but I did get this.” She stops to pull a sheet of paper out of her bag and hands it to her friend. “Here.”

“Madoka…”

“Hmm?”

“You’re a pretty cute magical girl and all, but I don’t think this is the mascot we need…”

“Oh, that’s not it. Look down.”

Sayaka’s eyes scroll down to the bottom of the page, where, buried among the various doodles, lies a… cat-rabbit-ferret… thing.

“What even…”

“It’s our mascot, Sayaka-chan,” Madoka replies with a grin.

Sayaka blinks, dumbfounded. “I _know_ that, but… what _is_ it?”

“Well, it’s, um… it’s a… critter… _thing_ ,” Madoka says helpfully. “Isn’t it cute?”

“Yeah, it’s… It’s cute!” Sayaka pulls her mouth into an entirely too-wide smile; her eyes, however, dart around, as if they were actors in a play suffering a sudden attack of stage fright. “Yeah.”

“You don’t like it, do you.”

“No, no, I like it just _fine,_ but…”

“…But?”

“It kinda looks like it’s gonna suck out my soul.”

She hands the paper back to Madoka, who stares into her creation’s beady red eyes. _Well…. I guess you’re kinda right._

A faint buzzing from Sayaka’s bag and the other girl pulls her phone out. “Oh, hey Mami-senpai just texted me! She says that she and Nagisa picked up the club application, all we need is a faculty advisor, and then we’re good to go!” She shoots her free fist into the air. _“Yes!”_

There’s that _light_ in hereyes, a light that dazzled them every time she swam back then, a light that Madoka hasn’t seen for almost four years.

_She’s back._

She’s _back…_ and Madoka wonders, if she wished on a shooting star (or maybe her cute-yet-soul-sucking little mascot), she could… erase it all.

Turn back time, and go back to when Kyoko was herself and Mami still smiled and Sayaka hadn’t torn herself up for Kyosuke and the flowers still bloomed, untrampled and lively, every spring.

_Sayaka and Kyoko and Mami… they’ve changed so much. But what about me?_

She shows her pace, letting Sayaka walk ahead, and turns to gaze at the girl in the river.

Short, slight, pink pigtails with red ribbons- the same ones she wore back then.

_I was never anything special… so I guess there’s nothing to change._

***

“So,” Madoka says into the phone as she lies in bed, the sky dark velvet with scattered stars outside her window, “I talked with my mom earlier, about getting a faculty advisor…”

“And?”

”She said her friend Saotome-sensei would probably do it!”

“The one who always goes on about how she can’t get a boyfriend?”

Madoka giggles. “Yep, that’s her.”

“Wonder what your mom said to get her to do it. Probably something about attractive male swim coaches.”

“Probably.”

The two of them laugh and the line falls silent.

“Sayaka-chan?” Madoka says a moment later breaking the quiet stillness of the night.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say-“ the words tumble from her mouth now in a rush, a river heavy with rain- “when Mami texted us, about our club being almost ready, you just… I haven’t seen you that _alive.” Not since Kyoko and him._ “For so _long_ , and I…”

“Sayaka-chan, I’m just really glad that you like swimming again. I was worried about you…”

“Mado-tan…” Sayaka sighs, “thanks. But it’s not like that.”

“It’s not like I’m swimming just for the fun of it, you know?” Her words are leaden, weighed down with a thousand different regrets. “It’s just…”

She takes the lead in her voice and forges it into a blade. “I have to beat her y’know? It’s like she’s the bad guy in the story, and I’m the hero, and I have to stop her. And then I’ll know. Quitting back then…that’s how I’ll know it was the right decision.”

Madoka feels her heart… not _break,_ exactly, but _crack. “_ Oh.”

“So I’ll see you in the morning, Madoka! ‘Night!”

“G’night!”

The line falls silent, and she’s alone once more.

***

Nakazawa thinks of himself as a fairly competent Student Councilman, not one to be distracted by random pretty girls, but the blonde that just walked in is… something else.

Golden hair curled in ringlets, pretty eyes to match, and a figure that looked like she could model… _Wow._

There’s two other girls behind her, a tall, blue-haired one who practically screams “girl jock” and a short one with pink pigtails who looks like she’s about to be swallowed up b the imposing presences of her friends.

“Hello,” the blonde says with a polite bow. _And a lady, too… help._

He tries in vain to concentrate on her words. “I’m interested in starting a swim club here at Mitakihara High-“ here she pulls the club application form out and hands it to him, and Nakazawa feels like weeping when their hands _don’t_ touch- ”I already filled out the application, and I hope everything his satisfactory.”

He tears his eyes away from her and scans the form. “Well, I see you’ve got a faculty advisor’s signature, and you have three members, but… where’s the fourth?”

Her face remains composed, but her eyes do an impression of a kitten with a laser pointer. “Well… we don’t quite have a fourth member, but-“

“It’s in the rules. Four members is the minimum.”

Three jaws hit the floor, three pairs of eyes go wide. _“What?”_


	6. Sawdust Breaststroke!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a fun one to write.

_Four members._

_I won't get to swim with them again. Madoka and Mami..._

_Kyoko._

Sayaka sucks in a breath, her heartbeat suddenly double-time with a longing she never could name, never even knew  _existed_ until now.

_Four members..._

There's a fourth, a flame written in red just out of her reach.

At her side, her fist balls up.

She's _the one who's wrong,_ she tells herself.  _Not_ me _._

_We weren't meant to swim together again._

She's not done atoning.

She'll never be.

Mami's eyes go wide. "No… there  _has_ to be some mistake. I was in here yesterday to get the application form, and I never heard anything about a minimum member limit... are you sure?"

Nakazawa blinks at her, looking very much like a small animal in the headlights of an oncoming car. "Wasn't the girl who was with you your fourth member- short, white hair, orange eyes?"

"Oh, you mean Nagisa?"

"Yeah, her- I remember seeing her with you the other day."

Mami shakes her head. "Oh, no- she was just here for the orientation. She's still in middle school..." Her voice trails off, one word written over her features:  _help_.

"Oh, okay, I'm sorry about the misunderstanding, but you still need four members."

Sayaka's heart makes like a stone tossed in the pool.

 _"Seriously?"_  she says, stepping out in front of Mami. "There's  _got_ to be some mistake- something we can do..."

"Here's what you can do," one of Nakazawa's colleagues says, folding his arms across his chest as he shoots a glare at the three girls. "Come back with a fourth member, and then we'll talk."

Her gaze drops away from Nakazawa and towards the floor.

_It was never meant to happen._

_We can't go back._

She hasn't killed her prince.

***

The choice is made, the door is closed, and-

_I'm alone._

_I won't get to swim with them again._

The breath catches in her throat and her heart falls to her feet as she says, "Let's go, Sayaka. There's nothing we can do."

The words are heavy, dead on her tongue.

As they leave, the office door latches behind them with a loud, final  _thump._

 _But... maybe it's better this way,_ she thinks, her soul clouded with sorrow and longing- and a tiny, filthy spark of  _relief_ , unquenched despite the storms, the floods. 

  _This way… at least I won't have to swim again._

"So, what're we gonna do  _now?"_ Sayaka's voice snaps her out of her reverie. "How're gonna get a fourth member?"

_But if- if only there was a way I could stay by their side..._

She takes a deep breath, ignoring the way her lungs resist, tightening and shaking as if she’ll drown in the air itself.  “Okay, girls. First official Mitakihara High Swim Club meeting at 17:00 today! We'll get our fourth member yet."

_I'll lead them. I can._

_I_  will.

***

Her newly-christened official secretarial notebook tucked under one arm and Sayaka by her side, Madoka steps lightly up the brick-paved walk of Mami and Nagisa's house, a modest, stone-lined bungalow on the outskirts of Mitakihara City, its humble appearance a stark contrast to the fantastic jungle of glass and steel that forms the city's heart. Here the trees grow tangled and wild, as if to swallow up the weathered little house nestled within them.

_Ding-dong._

A sharp flurry of barking and a call of, "Onee-chan, they're here!" and the door opens to reveal Mami, her eyes bright, and a small, wriggling ball of fluff cradled in the crook of her arm.

"Madoka-san, Sayaka-san, it's nice to see you," Mami says with a polite bow- which quickly becomes the aforementioned fluffball's excuse to escape the confines of her owner's arms.

"Ginger,  _down_ ," Mami commands to little avail, as the little dog, her tail doing an impression of a window wiper, seems to be more intent on climbing Madoka than anything else.

 _"Aww!"_  Madoka squeals, scooping her into her arms. "She's so _cute!_  Where'd you get her?"

"Oh, she's not mine," Mami says with a smile. "She's Nagisa's- she's had her for a while now. I'm just the new human."

Sayaka blinks. “What kind of a name is ‘Ginger’, anyways?”

“Oh, it’s just the English word for ‘ginger’. Nagisa’s quite good at her English studies,“ she says with a fond smile. “Come on in.”

"So," Sayaka asks as the older girl leads them inside, Ginger following them, her tongue hanging out and her nails scrabbling on the wood floor, "how'd you meet Nagisa?"

The inside of the house is every bit as unpolished as the exterior, with a gnarled, knotted pale wood floor, an aggressively blue kitchen counter, and walls that fall just short of the color white, bearing the marks and scuffles of a well-loved home.

The three of them head up the stairs and into Mami’s room, coming to a stop beside a low glass table that sets a sharp contrast to the rest of the house, looking almost like a relic left behind by a wandering time-traveler.

“Oh, it’s rather a long story,” Mami says as she picks up the gold-patterned teapot resting on the table and pours them each a cup, letting three miniature columns of steam rise up.

“Oi, we’ve got time.”

“The thing is,” she continues, looking down at the teacup as if to find some hidden answer in the leaves, “after I left the swim club the first time, I was living on my own for a few years- most of my high school career, actually.”

“I managed for a while, but it was quite difficult. Balancing school and my duties- it was never easy, and, when I met Nagisa’s father again-“

“Wait. Hold up.” Sayaka cocks her head to one side. “How’d you meet Nagisa’s dad?”

“He’s been an old friend of my family ever since I was a little girl, “ Mami replies, her smile turning wistful, as if caught in the folds of a bittersweet memory. “I… I’m very glad I met him again.”

 _Mami-san,_ Madoka thinks, _are you okay? What_ happened _to leave you all alone like this?_

“So how’d you get your bracelet?” Sayaka asks.

Mami’s face pales, her brow furrows, her gaze drops back down to her teacup. “It’s… a reminder.”

“A-“

A head of long, messy white hair appears in the doorframe, Ginger cradled in her arms. “Onee-chan! What’cha guys doing in there?”

“Oh, Nagisa-chan! We’re just about to start discussing ideas for our swim club- namely, how to get a fourth member interested.” She lets out a small chuckle. “We’re… somewhat strapped for ideas.”

“Oooh! I’ve got one!” Nagisa promptly scurries into the room and flings herself on Mami’s bed. “You should, like, set up a gigantic maze of cheese, and then hand out prizes and snacks and stuff for the first people to reach the center of the maze, and then they’d _totally_ want to join!”

Sayaka rolls her eyes. ”Aaand… this has to do with swimming _how,_ exactly?”

“Well, then everyone would see just how much _fun_ being in the club would be and then-“

Mami sighs. “It’s a clever idea, Nagisa-chan, but I honestly don’t think we could pull off something like that.”

Nagisa pushes herself onto her elbows. “Well then, what about your other friend? You know, the mean one with the red hair- Sakura-something?”

Madoka’s breath catches in her lungs. _The hurt flashing in Kyoko’s red eyes, Sayaka’s voice at the other end of the line telling Madoka about just how horrible their old friend has become, the race, Kyoko’s fist tight around Sayaka’s goggles, pulling her close, and Madoka herself, watching from the sidelines, helpless,_ powerless _to save her friends…_ She squeezes her eyes shut, as if to block out the memories that threaten to well up and run down her cheeks. _If only…._

Sayaka puts both arms behind her head and leans back, as if to stretch out her arms after a race. “Uhhh... we tried that. Didn’t work.”

_If only it would._

“It’s not like we don’t want her to join,” Mami explains with a sigh, “but she’s made it very clear she doesn’t want to be with us anymore.” She turns her gaze back to Madoka and Sayaka. “But Nagisa’s idea of handing out small tokens was quite a good one. How about this: we set up a small booth during lunch and after school, and hand out something small, like baked goods and posters… Madoka-san, did you get a mascot designed for us yet?”

Madoka smiles and pulls out a folded-up sheet of paper with her soul-sucking little critter on it, the characters for ‘KYUBEY-CHAN’ forming a messy signature in the bottom right corner. “Yep! Sayaka-chan thinks he’s creepy, but I think he’s actually kind of cute.” She hands it to Mami. “Here- what do you think?”

Sayaka chuckles. Under her breath, she mutters, ”She’s gonna say it’s cree-“

Madoka can practically _see_ Mami melt. _“Aww…”_

A loud _thump_ as Sayaka’s forehead connects with the table.

“He’s _perfect,_ Madoka-san.” Mami's positively _beaming_. “He’ll do _wonders_ for us as a mascot.”

Sayaka makes a small, incredulous sound from the back of her throat, sounding something like a cross between a dying car and a penguin and earning her a pair of _just go with it_ looks.

“So,” Mami says, hurriedly jotting down the last five minutes, “tomorrow, we’ll meet during lunch to set up our table. I’ll take care of baking the Kyubey-chan cookies and designing the posters, Madoka-san, you handle the banner design-“  
“R-right!”

“And Sayaka-san…”

“Yeah?”

“How many keychains do you think you can make?”

“Wait, _what?”_

***

From the second that they’d declined her _exclusive_ private tour of Mitakihara High’s student body artworks (mostly her own, if she was being honest) Yatsuhisa Izabel disliked the two girls on sight.

And things only go downhill once the blue one decides to commandeer the wood carver with a cheerful call of, “Don’t worry, I got this- which one is the ‘on’ button again?”

Pink Twintails looks up from her glitter-covered excuse for a banner, worry clouding her voice as she says, “Sayaka-chan, I really don’t think you should…”

Her words are cut off by a sharp _whirr_ from the other room. “Never mind, I found it! So I just need to put the wood up next to it, and then- SHIT!”

_“Sayaka-chan!”_

“I’m fine, it’s not bleeding… much…” She pokes her head into the main room of the art club. “Hey! You got like a rag or something?”

Izabel simply facepalms.

***

Two hours later, Sayaka, her finger still in one piece and securely wrapped, stares out at a vast pile of sawdust and mutilated attempts at Kyubey-chan keychains.

_Well... crud._

“Guess this isn’t gonna work,” she says as Madoka walks in from the main room, her feet making a soft _scuff-scuff_ against the sawdust-covered floor.

“S-Sayaka-chan-“

”It’s kinda frustrating, y’know? No one came at lunch today- and nowlook at _this_ …” She kicks at one of the failed attempts at a keychain, sending a little puff of sawdust up.  

_And just when I found a reason to swim, again, too…_

She blinks, surprised at the depths of her own longing. “Madoka?”

“Hm?”

“You really think we can do this? Get a team and all…” _And get Kyoko back_ , she thinks in some shadowy, distant corner of her heart.

Her words are cut short by a pair of lithe arms wrapping around her waist, a head of pink twintails nuzzling into her side. “I… I don’t know either… but I know we have to try. I’ve missed it, swimming with Mami-senpai and Kyoko-chan…”

The unspoken _and you_ hangs heavy in the air between them, three years of regret the current that pulls it down.

“Well,” Sayaka says with a dry laugh, “so much for Mami-senpai’s keychain idea. We’ve practically got our own sawdust pool here.”

Madoka pulls away from the other girl, a glint in her eyes. “Maybe we could have our very own sawdust relay in it.”

Sayaka chuckles softly. “Be a bit hard to have a medley relay with two people, though… but hey, it’s worth a shot. Ready?”

Madoka nods, her eyes sparkling. “Mm- _hm!”_

Sayaka flops down on the floor, sending up a Sayaka-shaped puff of dust. “Sawdust freestyle!”

Another puff of dust, and Madoka joins her on the floor, a giggle darting from her lips. “Sawdust breaststroke!”

The two of them laugh and swim through the sawdust, and even though it’ll never be water, for a second… it’s enough.

“Sayaka-chan?” she says, interrupting her mock swimming to reach out and give the other girl’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah?”

“We… we’re gonna get a fourth member.”

_I promise._

***

Wednesday morning dawns clear and bright, a few cotton clouds forming a silver-white frame around the morning sun. The air is fresh and heavy with dew, the kind of air that hints at the promise of spring, of new beginnings.

The three of them meet beside the brook outside the school: Mami, who, between the folder overstuffed with posters and the platter of freshly-baked, raspberry-filled Kyubey-chan cookies, has almost taken up juggling; Sayaka, carrying two bulging bags of keychains she _finally_ managed to get right; and Madoka herself, the rolled-up poster under her arm sending down a miniature shower of glitter after her every movement.

Izabel from art made a few interesting faces and a sound like footsteps on wet, slimy, insect-infested mud at the sight of it, after which Sayaka called her quite a few rude names, thereby shooting their first prospect neatly in the foot.

“Well,” Mami says once they’ve reached her, her eyes bright, “we’re all here, so let’s get to work. Madoka-san-“ here she nods in Madoka’s direction- “I see you’ve got the banner, and Sayaka-san, did you make the keychains?”

“Barely,” Sayaka mutters under her breath.

Mami nods “Then let’s go. You two each each take a stack-“ she motions with her chin to the stack of posters she’s carrying- “and we’ll all put up posters on the way to class and after school, and meet up at lunch to set up the table. You girls get that?

“Right!’

Sayaka and Madoka, however, happen to reach for the poster stack at the _exact_ moment the previously pleasant spring breeze decides to play a cruel prank.

An errant gust of wind sends most of Mami’s beautiful glossy posters tumbling into the stream, where they float like oversized, swim-club-advertising lilypads, as if Mother Nature has decided that the posters _themselves_ should swim.

As Mami makes a noise that’s more reminiscent of the whine of a dying engine than anything else, her fingers turning white around the remaining posters and cookie sheet, Sayaka drops her bag and dashes toward the errant posters, sending about fifty little wooden Kyubey-chan keychains skittering across the sidewalk.

The forward momentum of her lunge carries her straight into the stream, where Sayaka, in an astounding display of her natural athleticism in water, falls flat on her butt.

Madoka herself has more success in saving the runaway posters from a watery grave; however, she has forgotten one important rule of gravity: if someone reaches to grab something with an object tucked under their arm, said object will inevitably fall.

And now her carefully-painted and bedazzled banner lies half in, half out of the brook, sending a trail of glitter and blue paint heading downstream, as if the babbling brook ran with bath gel.

Somewhere, Yatsuhisa Izabel is laughing.

“Sayaka-chan, are you okay?” Madoka asks, setting her (now crumpled) posters down. She yanks the banner up out of the stream, watching as the now-soggy end does a decent impression of a dead fish on the cobblestones.

Mami follows her question with an, “Are you hurt, Sayaka-san?” a moment later as she sets her platter of cookies down amidst the Kyubey-chan storm.

She starts toward the water, extending a hand to help Sayaka up, then steps delicately into the creek, wincing as one foot, then another, goes underwater.

Mami bends down to pick up one of the floating posters, shifting her weight as she does so- and promptly begins to regret wearing heels that day, as her shoes catch in the pebbles, sending her toppling backwards with her arms doing a windmill impersonation.

Sayaka lunges forward to catch her- only to be caught off balance as the heavier girl’s weight falls on her, sending them _both_ crashing to the streambed.

Madoka winces.

“What’s going on here?” asks a voice that is most _definitely_ trying and failing not to laugh.

Madoka turns around to see two girls- one with a short, dark red bob, the other with brown hair filled to the brim with about a thousand barrettes. Both first years, from the looks of them, and probably trying to puzzle out just _why_ their senpais are having a makeshift stream party on the way to school.

“We’re… well, we’re, um…”

“We’re starting a swim club!” Sayaka pipes up from her seat in the streambed.

The redhead rolls her eyes. “Great place to practice.”

“It’s not like that!” Sayaka protests, her loafers making a _squelch_ as she climbs out of the stream. Extending a hand to help Mami up, she says, “We’re trying to get some new members and-“

“And what’s _this?”_ Barrettes asks, lifting one of the keychains in the air as if it were chewed gum instead.

“Well, ah, we kinda dropped some stuff-“

“What Miki-san is trying to say,” Mami announces, walking forward to stand between the girls and Madoka, “is that we’re currently open for new members.” She bows to the other girl, a gentle smile on her face. “I’m Tomoe Mami, and this is Kaname Madoka and Miki Sayaka. And you are?”

Redhead and Barrettes exchange a _look._ “You guys are starting a swim club?”

“Yeah!” Sayaka says, stepping up to stand beside Mami and Madoka. “See, we kinda need a fourth member, so if you guys would like to join, that’d be _great.”_ She holds out one of their recovered posters, now soaking wet and thoroughly covered with moss and other stream detritus from its short career of plastering a boulder. “Here. See what you think.”

A fat drop of water slides of the end of the poster and onto Barrettes’ shoe with a soft _plop._

A _whoosh_ of air, and Madoka’s pigtails billow out as the two girls hastily make their exit.

The three of them exchange a glance. “ _That_ went well,” Sayaka comments.

“Well,” Mami says, her voice tense, “they could have been a tad more polite about things, but, to be terribly honest here, we are a _mess_.” She shakes her head. “New plan: I’ll reprint all the posters and we all meet up after school in the art room to repair the banner, and we’ll set up the booth at lunch _tomorrow_ instead of today. Sounds good?”

“So what’re you gonna do about the cookies?” Sayaka asks.

“Well,” Mami says, “you girls have your keychains, I have my cookies. Hopefully I’ll be able to hand most of them out today, and if not, hey that’s more for the rest of us.” She gives a small chuckle. “And besides, if we run out, we can always make more for the booth tomorrow. Nagisa’s an excellent helper.”

“Oh, she bakes too?”

‘Well, more like a taste-tester, but I’ll make a good baker out of her one day.” Mami says with warm smile.

Sayaka chuckles. “Yeah, I bet.”

“Well, I’ll see you girls after school today,” Mami says with a polite bow. “We’ll all work on recruitment today, and who knows? We might have our fourth member by the end of the day.”

Sayaka shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, how hard can it be?”

***

Three days later, Miki Sayaka has her answer.

Very hard indeed.

The excuses she’s collected ranged from the sensible (“I’m sorry, but I already joined track/volleyball/basketball/cycling/tennis/sewing club/band/about twenty different study groups/all of the above,” “I can’t swim,”) to the clueless (“Swimming? You mean, like, when you put on a cute little bikini and lay in the sun and flirt with guys? How is that even a _sport?”_ ) to the flimsy (“Well, you see, my faux eyelashes tend to fall off in water, so…”, “My pet parakeet drowned when I was a child, and when I think about how easily that could happen to _me…”_ ) to the downright bizarre (“Um, don’t you know what _kind_ of stuff breeds in those pool filters?”)

And that’s not even counting the sheer amount of people who didn’t even bother with a reason beyond, “Swimming sucks and I hate it,” or “Your mascot is ugly.”

And now, she’s sprawled out on the floor of Mami’s bedroom, idly tossing one of the aforementioned ugly mascots up in the air. _Madoka, I’m not gonna say I told you so, but…_

“So, do _either_ of you have any new ideas?” Mami asks, her pen poised over her notebook and a hint of pleading in her voice.

“Well, we could… um, I don’t know...” Sayaka can practically _hear_ Madoka’s voice reaching, trying to grab an answer out of thin air.

Sayaka rolls onto her side and props herself up on one elbow, her short blue hair carpet-styled into spikes. “Well, maybe…”

 _Maybe this isn’t meant to happen,_ she thinks, letting her bitterness and guilt wrap around her like armor, shielding her from Madoka and Mami’s expectant eyes.

_Maybe we’re not supposed to swim together again._

_Maybe I can’t go back._

_Looking out over the water with Kyoko beside her, the adrenaline liquid lightning in her veins; that small, guilty,_ wrong _spark of joy in her heart as she announced she’d go along with Mami and Madoka’s plan, the way her chest clenched with the knowledge that without a fourth, she wouldn’t be able to come back- wouldn’t be able to_ swim _against- beside- that girl of flame once more._

Other memories, too, flicker through her mind and heart, memories sour and bitter and black, a leaden weight pulling her down.

“Sayaka-san?” Mami asks, her eyes inquisitive.

She can’t get the words out; her breath is caught in her lungs, a boulder wedged down her throat.

 _Mami-senpai,_ she wants to ask, _did you ever feel this way? Like if you followed your heart, you’d never be able to face yourself ever again?_

But she knows it’s wrong.

It’s _Mami_ that’s always been the strong one, the leader, the one who catches them when they fall- herself, and Madoka, and Kyoko too, once.

Or at least she was.

Sayaka remembers their first meeting, remembers the sight of her sitting alone, her once lively strength now dimmed.

_You deserve this club, Mami- it’s the least I can do._

_I don’t._

Her eyes close.

_I’ll never be free._

“Sayaka,” Mami says, a slight tremble in her voice, “if you have any ideas, Madoka and I would appreciate them, no _matter_ how off-the-wall. Because…”

She blinks and bows her head, her fingers tightening around her pen as if to crush it in two.

“Mami-senpai, are you alright?” Madoka asks, putting one arm around the older girl’s shoulders.

“Yes.” Her voice is breathy, fragile, like spun glass. “I’m fine, I just…” The glass cracks, and Mami squeezes her eyes shut, turning away from Madoka and Sayaka. “It’s my last year of high school and all, and I was hoping that I’d get the chance to swim with you girls, one last time…”

Sayaka swallows hard, forcing the gravel back down her throat, and sits up to offer the other girl a wry smile. “You don’t need to worry, Mami-senpai. We’ll find someone- there’s _gotta_ be someone out there who’ll join.” She crawls over to the low table and rests her chin in her hands “And I think we just need to keep working hard, y’know? Keep doing what we’re doing, and-“

“Hey, Onee-chan!” Nagisa pokes her head into the room. “You guys get a fourth member yet?”

Mami sighs heavily. “Well…. to say ‘no’ would be _quite_ the understatement.”

“Oh, okay- hey, do you guys happen to know what school Kyoko-san goes to?”

“Shitome Academy, over in Kazamino. Why?”

“Okay, thanks! If Dad asks, tell him I’m at a friend’s for school! ‘Bye!”

“Nagisa,” Mami warns, “just _what_ are you planning?”

But she’s gone, leaving only a discarded cheese stick wrapper and the sound of running feet in her wake.

Mami facepalms.

***

She’s spent many long hours waiting for this day, circling the date on the calendar in evermore intricate patterns, until she can feel the lines etched into the glossy page two months away.

It hangs on her wall now, the only respite from that one specific shade of greenish-white that the doctors _say_ makes the patients feel better, but it’s always made her a little sick.

She can feel it, now, feel the static tingling in her veins with the promise of a new school, a new home, a new life.

Almost seventeen years old, with four heart surgeries to her name-

_Someone like me- what will they think?_

_Will I always be the weak one, always be alone, always making a fool of myself?_

She’ll have an answer, she knows.

Suddenly feeling very small, Akemi Homura takes of her glasses, craws into bed, and pulls the blankets close to her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no brakes on the madohomu train from here on out, people
> 
> And I'm SO sorry about the EXTREME wait between chapter updates- I was on vacation for around two weeks, than the RinHaru mook dropped and I died of fangirling, and then some personal stuff dropped and had a rough couple weeks. It won't happen again and besides, next chapter is one I've REALLY been looking forward to writing.
> 
> Also, spot the humanized witch.


	7. They Stick Together, No Matter What

By the time Momoe Nagisa reaches Shitome Academy, she’s taken three different trains, two buses, and one mad dash through the city park- complete with scattering pigeons, hurdling dog leashes, and receiving a thorough soaking, because walking _around_ fountains is just too mainstream.

And hey, it isn’t _her_ fault she’s bad with directions.

_Dad’s gonna_ kill _me for this,_ she thinks as she runs up the steep walk to the school’s entrance, leaving a trail of wet footprints in her wake.

_Well, first he’ll ask me how I managed to spend nine hundred yen in bus fare. But_ then _he’ll kill me._

Behind her, the sun sinks towards the horizon, turning the distant skyline of Mitakihara City from silver to gold and stretching out her shadow like taffy.

_But hey, if Onee-chan can get her team- get_ Sakura _-san- back… then getting grounded is worth it._

Determination crinkling her brows, she charges up the steps and bursts through the glass doors in a manner that resembles more a rocket than a girl, finally coming to a skidding halt at the front desk and letting out a breathless, “Hi!I’mMomoeNagisaandIwaswonderingifthere’sagirlnamed-“ The tumble of words comes to a abrupt halt, as she realizes she lacks an important thing- her target’s name

“Yes?” says the receptionist, looking down at her through her thick glasses, as if Nagisa’s a walking, talking cockroach that’s somehow wandered into her office at high velocity.

“Well, ah-“ Nagisa stammers, ducking her head, her eyes darting from the counter to the floor like a kitten watching a string. “Okay, she has red hair and kind of a mean attitude but Onee-chan says she used to be nice and-“ She cringes at her own words, her mind filled with the mental image of Onee-chan’s old relay team going down in flames. “A-and I’m pretty sure there’s a Sakura in there somewhere… Sakura Kazumi? Kyatsu Sakura?”

The woman pushes her glasses up. “If you don’t have a name-“

“No, wait, just give me a minute…” Her voice trails off as she catches sight of the little hard candies sitting in a glass bowl on the secretary’s desk. Ignoring the secretary’s withering glare, she reaches up, grabs one of the candies, tilts her head back and tosses it in her mouth, wrapper and all.

“Yum, apricot…” she mumbles around the candy and wrapper- now separate- currently occupying her tongue.

The secretary promptly facepalms.

_Apricot…_ “Wait! I got it! Kyoko! Her name! Sakura Kyoko!”

The woman gives a sigh that sounds as if the air itself has turned to mountains. “Well, “ she says, her tone clipped, short, “there _is_ a Sakura Kyoko currently enrolled here at Shitome Academy, but we’re not allowed to discuss personal information about students for security reasons. If you wish to speak to her, leave your name and number and we’ll notify her.”

Nagisa pushes out her lower lip. “Can’t there be a way to get to her _now?”  
_ “I’m sorry, miss, but no.”

“But it’s _important_ \- I’m a _friend_ of hers and-“

“No buts.”

And so, Momoe Nagisa, her mission thoroughly foiled, does the one thing any sensible person would do.

She picks a hall and runs like hell.

***

“And that’s IT, girls!” Maki Kaoru’s voice rings loud and clear across the pool, heralding the end of practice and the cue for the fine young ladies of the Shitome Academy swim team to promptly drape themselves off the lane dividers.  

“Everybody do their cool-down stretches, go get your jacket or whatever, and get your ass back here in 5- got a prefectural tournament to discuss,” she announces, pulling her red-and-black Shitome swim jacket over her shoulder with one hand, and raking her hand through her aggressively spray-cheese orange hair with the other. “Oi, Sakura!”

“Yeah?”

“Pool is not a snack bar, save the cheese puffs for the locker room.”

With an eyeroll and a sound caught between a sigh and a grunt, Kyoko crumples the opening of the bag shut and stomps off towards the locker room, her feet making a wet _slap-slap_ against the floor.

Chitose Yuma starts after her, hesitantly, like a baby deer just learning to stand.

The thick red ponytail three steps ahead of her vanishes with a _slam!_ of the locker room door that echoes around the pool, causing several of the girls to jump. Yuma’s steps, now directionless, falter to a halt.

The chatter of the other girls echoes around the pool- the words of friends, of a _team-_ and Yuma stands alone.

_Sakura-senpai… even though you wouldn’t notice someone as weak as me… I still hope… maybe we can become friends._

She sinks to the floor.

_I hope you won’t leave me behind._

The other girls start making towards the locker room, in groups of twos and threes, coalescing to form a wave, a wave that washes over Yuma and recedes with no foam, leaving her alone by the pool.

Once most of the other girls are safely inside the locker room, Yuma turns to the wall, squeezes her eyes shut, yanks off her swim cap in one desperate, rapid motion, and then hurriedly smoothes her bangs down over her forehead. When she opens her eyes again, she sees through a soft pale-green fringe.

She lets out a shaky breath. No one saw.

_If they knew… they’d see Yuma as weak, to, wouldn’t they? A failure._

_It’s not like I’m not, but…_

With a heavy sigh, she gets to her feet and walks off to the locker room.

Her locker sits tucked away in the far corner, sandwiched between the cold concrete bench below it and Kyoko’s locker above- which is now currently occupied by a certain redheaded roommate.

“…Sakura-senpai?” Yuma manages.

Her only response is a crinkling of the cheese puff bag, and a pair of red eyes glaring at her over their human’s shoulder.

Yuma lets out a breath, her words dying on her tongue.

Because out of the two of them, it’s _Sakura-_ senpai that’s always been the strong one; tough, fearless, ruthless, and one of the strongest- no, _the_ strongest swimmer on the team. And Yuma knows her senpai’s been hurt too- you don’t get into Shitome’s scholarship program if you haven’t- but…

Kyoko doesn’t have scars- she pulls her hair of fire back fearlessly, uncaring of who might see.

_Sakura-senpai, if you had been me… you wouldn’t have been this way, would you? You wouldn’t have cared what Mom said. You’d have escaped, survived on your own. You’d have done it. By yourself._

“Oi. What’cha staring at?”

“Well, I… ah…” Yuma stammers, ducking her head. “I was just… kindagettingatmylocker… so...” She slides to Kyoko’s left and bends down, reaching over with her right hand to grab the lock that’s currently stationed behind Kyoko’s knees. With a metallic _click,_ the lock slides open, and Yuma hurriedly stuffs her goggles and cap inside, grabs her jacket, clothes, and schoolbooks, and promptly scrambles off.

The rest of the girls file out of the locker room and Yuma follows, her notebook clutched close to her chest, she herself caught in the current once more.

Maki Kaoru, Shitome’s team captain, stands at the head of the line of girls.

Standing at a modest 5’3”, with boobs resembling nothing so much as a pair of ping-pong balls and hair the color of a traffic cone, she nevertheless forms a commanding figure as she addresses the rest of the girls.

Beside her stands Umika, the swim team’s manager and her opposite in every way- where Kaoru is orange, Umika’s hair gleams a rich indigo, where Kaoru is muscled, Umika is slight, where Kaoru is brash and athletic, Umika brings the brains and wisdom to the team- whenever she’s not having writer’s block, that is.

It’s a popular gambling subject among the students if they’re dating, banging, or both, and for how long.

“So!” Kaoru shouts. “Prefectural tournament.”

At her words, Yuma peers out from behind Kyoko’s thick mane of red hair.

“As you know,” Kaoru continues, “it’s four weeks from today, so from now on we’ll be stepping up practices- also, the deadline for everyone’s entries is two weeks from today, so you guys should start thinking about what events you’d want to enter.”

“On that note,” Umika says, stepping up with a small nod, “Kaoru and I have prepared a new training regimen for you girls-“

A collective groan issues from the group.

Umika continues on undaunted. “-and I expect _each_ of you to follow it sternly. Now, as to the relay teams-“ She turns to her girlfriend. “Kaoru?”

“While everyone’s gonna pick their individual entries, we’ll be selecting the teams for both the freestyle and medley relays based on the fastest qualifying times- overall for freestyle and in each individual stroke for medley…”

_The medley relay._

Yuma’s heart is a stormcloud, its beat a roll of thunder.

_Sakura-senpai’s_ sure _to qualify for the relay… if I could only_ just _swim a little faster… work a little harder…._

She can see it now, _feel_ it in her thunderous heartbeat- pushing _herself through the water with all her might, her muscles taut with raw power, one thought crystallized in her mind:_ Come back.

_To Sakura-senpai- and the others._

_To win- for the team._

_She raises her head to breathe and sees her- Sakura-senpai, standing tall and strong on the starting block, her red hair billowing out behind her, a flag catching the wind and set alight with the rays of the sinking sun._

Almost there!

_With lightning in her veins, she surges forward, as if to tear the water apart by the seams._

I did it! We’re in the lead!

_Her fingers hit the wall._

_Above her head, Sakura-senpai launches herself off the block, as graceful as ever._

_The timing is 0 seconds- a perfect exchange._

Her heart heavy with hope, she stands on tiptoes to whisper in Kyoko’s ear. “Sakura-senpai… do you think I could get on the relay team? Like, if I worked really, really hard?”

Kyoko makes a _tch_ sound. Turning her head to glance over her shoulder, she whispers back, “You’re _seriously_ asking me this.”

Yuma nods, in a decent impression of a bobblehead. “Mmm-mhm…”

“Don’t even try.”

Yuma’s heart promptly crashes to the floor, sending little pieces of hope skittering around the natatorium. “But… why not?” she squeaks, her voice small and breathy, lost among the other voices echoing around the pool.

When Kyoko speaks again, her voice is still soft, but thick with scars. “Swimming for the sake of someone else? Nothing good’s gonna come from that.”

“… But… I-“

Kyoko’s eyes flash, her voice frosting over. “ _Don’t,“_ she hisses through clenched teeth.

Yuma swallows hard.

“So… everyone got that?” Kaoru is saying.

And Yuma, in a day full of embarrassing blunders, makes the most embarrassing one yet.

“…Got what?”

A teamful of heads whip around, twenty-five pairs of eyes boring into her.

Umika give her a disapproving glare.

Kaoru facepalms.

Yuma simply shrinks. “Umm…” she stammers, wishing, _praying_ that she’ll sink into the concrete, “well… I… just kindahavetogotothebathroom, so… bye!”

Heedless of Umika’s stern, “No running on the pool deck!”, she scurries off, bursting through the glass doors of the pool and out into the hall.

The doors slam shut behind her, echoing through the empty hallway like a bell.

Yuma bends over and puts her hands on her knees, her face the color of Sakura-senpai’s hair, her heart tapping out a staccato rhythm.

_They… they’re all laughing at me now, aren’t they? Not paying attention in the meeting, making a fool of myself…_

_I thought… coming here_ _for high school… I was going to be strong, someone who wouldn’t be left behind, but… I guess I was just being stupid._

She looks up through the window in front of her and into the pool beyond, a living portrait of a swim team: Umika and Kaoru, their contrasting duo of leaders, Amano Suzune, cold and ruthless as ever; Subaru Kazumi, who _never_ took her bell earrings out, not even in water; Mikuni Oriko, her stature cut from ice, the model of ladylike refinement, and Kure Kirika, her ostensible girlfriend, in reality more like her pet dog.

And a flash of red at the end of the line.

_Sakura-senpai…._

Yuma watches from behind the glass as the meeting comes to a close, sending the girls heading towards the locker room in groups of twos and threes- all except for that flash of red, just as lonely as she.

… _you’re right. There’s no way I’d get the chance to swim the relay with someone as amazing as-_

The sound of running footsteps snaps her out of her reverie- a few seconds too late.

A figurecomes skidding around the corner at a speed Yuma never thought a human being could attain- and promptly crashes _right_ into her.

Yuma’s teeth clack together painfully as the stranger’s head collides with her jaw- and then they’re falling, her arms windmilling, the breath punched out of her lungs.

Yuma winces as first her tailbone, then her head, does an impression of a ping-pong ball dropped on the tile.

 She feels her unknown assailant shift off of her, and her heart fluttering, she blinks open her squeezed-shut eyes.

Looking down at her is a girl, about her age or a little younger, with eyes the color of coals- red at the outer edge, sunset orange at the center- and soft, gauzy white hair that falls from her head in damp ringlets, a frame of clouds around her heart-shaped, almost angelic face.

Yuma briefly forgets how to breathe.

“Ohmigosh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” the stranger shouts, somewhat unnecessarily considering their faces are less than a foot apart.

Yuma tries to answer, but she’s starting to believe that her knowledge of the Japanese language has somehow bounced out of her head on impact. ”I’m… um… I’m okay…” she stammers, her face turning pink as she registers the fact that the two of them, what with the other girl on all fours straddling her hips, are in a _very_ compromising position.

And that Yuma’s wearing only her swimsuit.

And that there’s a very large plate glass window immediately to her left, a window that looks out onto the pool- where her team is.

_The only way this could_ possibly _get more embarrassing is if-_

The sound of boots beside her head.

“Oi, Chitose.”

Yuma looks up to see Sakura Kyoko looking down at her, clad in shorts and swim jacket, her red hair tied back in a messy ponytail. “Who’s this?”

Yuma dies a little inside.

“Oh! Um…” The strange girl gets to her feet- a fact which Yuma is certainly _very_ grateful about- takes a deep breath, and straightens her shoulders. “You’re Sakura Kyoko, right? The one that was on the same relay team with Mami onee-chan in elementary school, right? ‘Cause I was wondering if-“ Biting her lower lip, she pauses to study the ground before continuing. “…Well, I mean Mami’s trying to start a swim club at her school-“

_Who’s Mami?_

Kyoko reaches in the bag for one of the cheese puffs and pops it in her mouth, her lips turning a bright orange. “Yeah. I heard.”

“And they- oh, those are cheese puffs?” Her voice brightens. “Can I have some?”

Kyoko tilts her head back, turns the bag upside down, and lets the last few cheese puffs fall into her mouth amidst a shower of orange dust.

The other girl sticks out her lower lip, a sound that’s the audible version of a lost puppy emanating from her throat. “…See, the thing is, she _seriously_ can’t get a fourth member… and I know you and Onee-chan used to be friends in elementary school, so… um, I thinkthey’dreallylikeitifyoujoined!” She gasps for breath, her expression doe-eyed as she looks up at Kyoko with a chirped, “Please?”

Kyoko folds her arms over her chest and storms off, the empty cheese puff bag falling crumpled to the floor behind her.

“Oh, but – _c’mon!”_ the other girl shouts, starting down the hall after her.

Another set of footsteps echoes through the hall, and a young woman rounds the corner- somewhat tall, with a full, curvy figure, golden hair carefully curled into ringlets, and hazel eyes.

And Kyoko freezes.

Her body goes rigid as if struck by lightning, her eyes flash, her face settles into hard lines.

The blonde woman holds her gaze, her eyes heavy with resignation as if to say, _I wished you’d listen_.

Time slows to a crawl, the only sound Yuma’s heart, hammering away in her ears.

It seems like an eternity before something _snaps_ within Kyoko.

She squeezes her eyes shut, turns her back, and stalks off, her boots shattering the unearthly silence with a rhythm reminiscent of a beating heart.

The blonde woman opens her mouth as if to speak, then closes it again, one hand reaching out to empty space.

Yuma takes a shaky breath.

_“Nagisa,”_ the woman says to the white-haired girl, her voice edged with the sternness that’s born of worry, “where have you _been?_ Your father’s been _very_ worried about you- and so have I.”

“Oh, ah…” Nagisa stammers, chewing on her lower lip, her hands fidgeting behind her back, “O-Onee-chan, I just thought…” She bounces lightly on her toes, her expression brightening. “-I thought that maybe if _I_ went to talk to Kyoko, I could get he to, like, reconsider joining you guys’ team, and then you and Sayaka and Madoka could _totally_ have her back and have your old relay team back and then you’d have a fourth member for the club at the same time!” With a little hop, she scurries over to her sister. “But I guess it kinda didn’t work. She still seems kinda mean.”

Her sister sighs. “I know. But anyways, we have to leave. You weren’t supposed to be here.”

Nagisa sticks out her lower lip. “I _know,_ but- Oh! And one more thing.” She runs back over to Yuma, still sprawled on the floor. “I’m really sorry, I never introduced myself!” She extends a hand and Yuma grabs it, only to find herself being abruptly _yanked_ to her feet. “My name is Momoe Nagisa! I’m a third year at Mitakihara Middle School! My best subject is English, my worst subject is math ‘cause it has too many numbers! My star sign is Gemini and my favorite food is cheese! Or cake. Or cheesecake! My-“

She’s cut off buy a sharp _ahem_ from behind her. “Oh, okay, Onee-chan! Just a minute!” Turning back to Yuma she says, “Now, what’s _your_ name?”

“C-Chitose Yuma… um… I’m a first year here at Shitome…”

The cough comes again, louder this time.

“Well… I guess I’ll see ya ‘round, Yuma-chan!” Nagisa calls, scurrying back to her sister. “’Bye!”

Yuma watches as the girl with the hair of clouds round the corner, disappearing from her sight.

_She’s a little… enthusiastic._

Her heart feels strangely warm, like Nagisa’s coal eyes have stoked something within her.

_But…nice._

***

“Sakura-senpai?” Yuma asks her later that evening, as the two of them are getting ready for bed. She’s perched herself on the top bunk, her feet swinging off the edge in a childlike manner that belies her fifteen years.

“Shoot.”

”I was just wondering… did you really mean what you said about the relay earlier? About, like, how I shouldn’t try and swim in it, ‘cause that would mean swimming for someone else and not for me?”

Kyoko tenses at Yuma’s words, her mouth settling into a thin line. “Yeah. I did.”

She looks up at Yuma sitting so _small_ on the bed- almost as small as her that day.

“Yuma, listen,” she says, her voice softening slightly. “Don’t try and make it on the relay team, ‘kay? Wrecking yourself for someone else like that- it’ll only hurt everyone involved. Trust me.”

_I’ve been there._

“But…” Yuma swings her feet again, faster this time. “…Didn’t Maki-senpai say that the fastest members for each stroke would get picked for the medley relay team? And you’re the _best_ there is.”

“So?”

“So how are you gonna get out of the relay team? She’ll pick you, I _know_ she will.”

Kyoko smirks. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”

Yuma falls silent, bringing her legs back under the railing and curling up under the blanket, hugging her knees tight to her chest.

Kyoko switches off the light and promptly flings herself down on the bottom bunk.

_Swimming for the sake of someone else…_

It’s memories like that that haunt her on nights like this, memories of a _different_ Kyoko, one sparking with hope and an unshakeable belief in the power of friendship, of happy stories and a saccharine bubble of a life.

The bubble popped.

_God, I was an idiot._

The shifting of blankets above her head andYuma pokes her head around the edge of the top bunk to look down at Kyoko, one hand gripping the railing, the other firmly plastered to her forehead.  “Oh, a-and one more thing, senpai…”

_There’s this thing called_ sleep _that people sometimes do, Chitose. You should try it._

“I was just wondering about those girls that came today, Nagisa and her sister… did you know them before?”

***

_Kyoko, six years old, sitting alone on the swings, her eyes puffy, her face shiny with tears._

_“I don’t like school anymore,” she sniffles, clutching Snuggles close to her chest. “The classes are boring and the other kids are mean to me and…“ She gulps. “A-and I just…”_

I want a friend.

_It’s as simple as that._

_She buries her face in her stuffed bear’s fur. “W-will you be my friend, Snuggles-san?”_

_“Hi!”_

_Kyoko looks up to see a girl, about the same age as her, with crayon-yellow hair bound up in two tight braids. “I’m Tomoe Mami,” she says, dropping into a clumsy bow, “and this is Bebe!” She holds out a stuffed pink caterpillar. “And Bebe_ really _wanted to come over and say hi to Bear-san-”_

_“His_ name _is_ Snuggles _,” Kyoko retorts, blinking away her tears._

_Mami is unfazed. “And what’s_ your _name? I haven’t seen you here.”_

_“S-sakura Kyoko…” She sniffs. “I’m new here….”_

_Mami plops herself down on the swings beside Kyoko. “Wanna swing with me? And Bebe and Snuggles-tan can swing together too! And after that, we can have a tea party and invite all of Bebe’s other friends-”_

_Kyoko pouts. “And_ your _friends too.”_

_Mami tucks her hands behind her back, her eyes downcast. “I… don’t really have any other friends.”_

_“…You can be mine.”_

_Mami lifts her head, her golden eyes wide and full of determination._ “Really?”

_Kyoko nods, a smile fighting its way through her tears._

_“Will you come to my tea party after school? The dress code is formal and Snuggles-san can bring a date if he wants.” She’s smiling now, her face shot through with sunlight._

_“I_ guess. _If it’s not_ too _frilly. Or prissy. Or stupid.”_

_It’s six years after that when the sirens call Kyoko away._

_“Kyoko,“ Mami says, “are you_ really _going to transfer to Mitakihara Elementary? It’s our last year here at Kazamino, after all, and-“ She shakes her head. “It just doesn’t seem like a really good idea to me, that’s all.”_

_It doesn’t seem like a good idea to Kyoko either, at least not the rational part of her brain- transfer schools_ just _to get close enough to attend Mitakihara Swim Club on a regular basis. When she herself can’t even swim._

_And all for her._

_Sayaka, as graceful as the waves themselves, who shines with a blinding light unlike anything she’s ever seen. Who, with her mere existence, makes the stars shine brighter, the flowers more vivid; who makes Kyoko’s heart race to escape velocity with just a glance._

_Sayaka, water and flame and electricity all in one, twin oceans sparkling deep and clear in her radiant eyes._

_And if Kyoko’s drowning in them, she sure doesn’t mind._

_She’s never felt so alive._

Sayaka…

“Yup!” _Kyoko says, her cheeks beginning to ache from smiling, her heart lighter than air. “I’m_ really _gonna.”_

_Mami’s shoulders shake as she draws a breath, her eyes downcast, studying the snowflakes carpeting her boots._

_She raises her head to look Kyoko in the eye, her candlelight eyes brimming with determination. At her side, her hands ball up. “Then I’m going with you.”_

_“But… why?”_

_“Because,” she smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “that’s what sisters do, isn’t it? They stick together, no matter what.”_

_Turning to face Mami, Kyoko reaches out and takes the other girl’s hands in her own, folding their fingers together. “We’ll stick together,” she echoes, giving Mami’s hands a reassuring squeeze. “No matter what.”_

***

“...Sakura-senpai?”

Kyoko lets out the breath she’s been holding, every muscle in her body drawn taut.

She swallows hard. “No. I don’t know her.”

The words stick in her throat, the sounds themselves the gravel scraping her insides raw.

“Are you sure?” says the soft voice on the bunk above her. “Cause, I mean, it seemed like they know you…”

Her heart cracks, but the cut is dry.

There’s nothing left to bleed.

She turns on her side to face the wall, drawing her knees close to her chest and tightening her fists around the blankets. “No.”

The taste of blood in her mouth from where she’s bitten her lip.

“I don’t know her at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: First fanart drawn by the completely AMAZING Sparklenaut! 
> 
> http://sparklenaut.tumblr.com/post/130977041570/remember-that-time-sayaka-was-a-competitive
> 
> *updates fic two months later like a boss*
> 
> Sorry about the slow update speed, I know I said it wouldn't happen again but RL stuff got in the way. But rest assured, this fic is nowhere NEAR dead!
> 
> Also, my apologies for not including Homura's introduction, she was originally supposed to come in this chapter but I split it in two due to the length- so, next chapter, Homura GUARANTEED.
> 
> And I was pretty shocked, during my first readthrough of Oriko Magica for this fic, about just HOW naturally Yuma fit in as Nitori, so...
> 
> SAKURA SENPAI SAKURA SENPAI SAKURA SENPAI SAKURA SENPAI SAKURA SENPAI SAKURA SENPAI SAKURA SENPAI SAKURA SENPAI SAKURA SENPAI SAKURA SENPAI 
> 
> (and a wild nagiyuma appeared)


	8. It's A Pleasure To Meet You

_“…Sayaka-chan?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_Madoka looks down at her knees, curling her fingers around the hem of her skirt. “I was just wondering…” Her words trail off, her mind forgetting the sounds, the concepts, the way she should move her mouth to make Sayaka understand._

It’s about Kyosuke, isn’t it? Why you aren’t swimming anymore.

_Sayaka is silent, a statue on the bench, her mouth set in a thin line- and Madoka imagines, if she were to wait long enough, that Sayaka would dry up like clay, her once-lively features turning to stone._

_“It wasn’t your fault.” The words tumble out in a rush, the pressure finally too much for her bricked-up throat. She leans to the side, wrapping her arms around the taller girl and burying her face into her shoulder. “What happened to Kyosuke. You didn’t hurt him. It wasn’t your fault.”_

_Maybe, just_ maybe _, if she says the words enough, Sayaka will understand._

It wasn’t your fault, Sayaka-chan.

_“Mado-tan,” Sayaka says with a note of forced cheer, wrapping her arm around Madoka’s shoulders, “thanks. But… it kinda was.”_

_Madoka opens her mouth, but no sound comes out._

_“And anyways,” Sayaka continues with barely a pause, “I still owe it to him. That’s what you do, isn’t it? If someone you love is hurt, you take care of them. You don’t just be all selfish and go after your own dreams. That’s not the right thing to do.” She blushes now, a smile curling at the edges of her lips, trying and failing to reach her eyes._

_The two of them fall silent after that, a gap forming between them that no words could ever cross._

_The wind picks up, shaking the full, green leaves in the trees and sending a swirl of fallen flower petals up from the pavement to envelop the two girls._

_Cherry blossoms._

_Once beautiful and pink, now brown and dry. Dead._

_Madoka curls her fingers around one in her hand and watches as it crumbles away to nothingness, dust on the wind._

_“…What about Kyoko-chan?” she says at long last, her voice lost on the whispering breeze._

_“What about her?”_

_“You… you said you were gonna make it to the Olympics together. That the four of us would always be close in our hearts, no_ matter _what.”_ But… but now Kyoko-chan’s moved away and Mami-senpai isn’t going to the club anymore and….

Sayaka-chan, you _say_ that you love him, but he’s ripping you in half. You’re not swimming anymore, you’re not _smiling_ anymore…

Please come back. It hurts so _much_ seeing you like this…

 _She turns to wrap her arms around her friend once more, digging her fingers into her shirt, hoping,_ wishing _that she’ll touch Sayaka’s heart and mind as well, that she’ll reach in and grab that brave, warm-hearted, sparkling Sayaka she once was._

_But Sayaka’s ocean eyes have frozen over now._

Can you come back for me? _Please._

***

Kaname Madoka groans and rolls on her stomach, burying her face in the pillow. The clock on her desk reads 1:17 AM.

_…Nnrgh._

Even now, the memory of those days still haunts her mind.

The way Sayaka’s eyes glittered, the lightness of her voice as she told Madoka, “ _It’s kinda romantic, don’tcha think? A maiden sacrificing herself to prove her love to the fair prince… it’s like something out of a_ fairytale _.”_

The way Sayaka dried up afterwards, her shoulders slumped, her smile gone, her sea-ice eyes choked with anger and ready to crack.

Something died inside her friend that day, her heart sinking away into the black depths where where Madoka herself could never reach.

_…Guess I’m not getting to sleep anytime soon._

She climbs out of bed, her limbs heavy with unrelieved fatigue and her pink hair forming a very intricate mop, and heads over to her drawers chair.

So named for the decorative chest of drawers between its legs, the antique chair had been Madoka’s since she was nine when her and her father attended a garage sale. For her and the chair, it was love at first sight, and ever since then, Drawersy was her favorite chair, excessive amount of overly-ornate wood besides.

She crouches at Drawersy’s feet and slides out its bottom drawer.

_Is it still here please be still here pleasebestillhere…_

Madoka dumps the drawer out onto the carpet, slides it back in, and proceeds to rifle through the pile. The results are lackluster at first: a pair of broken earbuds, yellow and white hair ribbons, her compass necklace- _so_ that’s _where that went!,_ a CD that Sayaka made for her, the words ‘BEST FRIENDS MIX’ scrawled on the disc in Sayaka’s nigh-unreadable handwriting.

_Back in middle school, before... everything happened._

She reaches the bottom of the pile.

Her heart sinks.

_Maybe try the other drawers? But no… I’m pretty sure I put it here…_

She looks up- and sees a goggles-shaped shadow on her floor, having bounced away from the pile when she emptied the drawer.

_Yes! They’re here!_

She scurries over to pick up the goggles, then stands up, walks over to her nightstand, and flicks on the light.

They’re nothing special- just a pair of swim goggles once given to an eleven-year-old girl, the lenses scratched and worn with time. The rubber strap is a vibrant red, the glitter flakes embedded in it sparkling in the light.

Her own voice comes back to her now, as if whispered through the veil of time.

 _“With Mami-senpai’s awesome leadership_ , _Sayaka-chan’s fantabulous swimming, Kyoko-chan’s incredible spirit, and my lucky red sparkle goggles-“_ her twelve-year-old self pumps her goggle-laden fist into the air- _“we’ll be SURE to win!”_

 _“I have an idea,“_ Mami said back then, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, _“how about we pour our friendship into Madoka’s goggles? If they’re really that lucky, then they’ll keep us together forever.”_

Madoka’s eyes flutter shut. In her hands, the goggles shake.

_“You go first,” Mami tells her, her eyes wide and glimmering with encouragement. “Say something to commemorate our friendship.”_

_“Uh… okay.” Madoka glances down at the goggles in her hands._ Something to commemorate our friendship…

_Her voice is soft, yet clear and strong. “I swim...” She holds out her hands, curling her fingers around the goggles. “Your turn, Sayaka-chan!”_

_“My_ absolute best,” _Sayaka flashes a cocky grin as she smacks her palms down on top of Madoka’s, her eyes almost luminous. “Kyoko!”_

_“For the team!” Kyoko says, slapping their hands with a force to rival Sayaka’s own, her eyes turning soft as she looks at the other girl._

_“Always and forever,” Mami says, her hands warm and soft on top of the other girls’, their fingers intertwining._

Madoka tightens her grip around the goggles in her hands.

Only one pair of hands now.

… _They probably don’t fit now anyways._

She lets the goggles fall to the floor.

The sound of water.

Madoka manages a weary grin. _Sounds like Mom’s home._

Leaving the goggles- the memory of a Sayaka who dreamed and a Mami who was strong and a Kyoko who said _for the team_ \- behind, she turns off the light with a _click_ and walks out her bedroom door and down the stairs. Her steps are leaden, sinking down under the weight of a thousand unshakeable memories.

Her mother sits at the kitchen table, clad in bathrobe and towel turban, her eyes bloodshot and a glass of scotch in her hand.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Madoka shakes her head. “Nmm.” She pulls out a chair and sits down. “Can we talk?”

Her mother pours her a glass, the ice cubes clinking as it fills. “Sure. What about?”

“Well…” She takes a sip, swallowing the bitter alcohol and the residual _not old enough to drink yet_ guilt in one go. “Um, me and Sayaka-chan and Mami-senpai are trying to start a swim club…”

Junko’s whole face lights up “You guys are _swimming_ together again?” she echoes. _“Damn_ that’s fantastic. The four of you used to be so close.” She takes a long swig from her glass, the sets it down on the table with an audible _thump._ “You saving a spot for Kyoko when she comes home?”

A mountain-sized lump in her throat, Madoka ducks her head, unable to meet her mother’s gazes. “Well… um, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about, actually…”

“Mmm?”

“See, the thing is…” She takes a deep breath, as if to give her next words wings. “Kyoko-chan’s come home… but she’s…” She takes a sip of scotch, then swallows hard. “She’s different now. A lot.”

“Different how?” her mom says, though her soft eyes and tender voice hint that she already knows the answer.

“She’s really bitter, and angry, and…” The next words tumble out a gushing waterfall. “She’s _hurting,_ Mom, I can see it in her _eyes_ , but everytime me and Mami try and talk to her she just pushes us away even _more_ and…” Stricken, she gasps for breath. “And the swim club was actually Mami-senpai’s idea, she was thinking that it’d help Kyoko remember how much _fun_ we had but it’s not _working,_ she’s at a different school and we need four members to get a club started but we _really_ can’t find a fourth and… and…”

Another breath.

The lump’s bigger now.

“The thing is, Sayaka-chan… she doesn’t even _wanna_ help her, all she does is say stuff about how _horrible_ Kyoko-chan is now, and about how she doesn’t wanna be friends with her _ever again_ and… I just- I just…”

She sniffs, her voice trembling as it nears its crest, her vision beginning to blur. _“Sayaka_ -chan’s been hurting _too,_ she’s been hurting for _years_ and I just wanna _help_ her, help her _smile_ again, but she won’t _listen_ and neither will _Kyoko-_ and Sayaka’s only going along with the swim club ‘cause she wants to beat Kyoko and there _has_ to be a way to help them-“ _gasp-_ “and Mami _too_ but I’ve tried _everything_ but I _can’t_ I can’t help _anyone_ I’m _useless-_ and I’ll _lose_ them, lose them _all-“_

The wave of her voice breaks, crashing around the kitchen. _“I just wanna save my friends!”_

The threatening tears finally spill over, running down her cheeks and landing on the table with a soft _plop_.

A soft pressure on her outstretched hands, and Madoka looks up to see her mother’s soft smile as she takes her daughter’s hands in her own. “Madoka,” she says. “First of all: it’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Madoka smiles back through her tears.

“Second of all, you need to breathe. _Breathe_.”

She nods mutely and takes a deep breath.

“Feel better?’

“Yep.”

“And last but not least: you’re _not_ useless.” She squeezes her daughter’s hands tighter. _“Anything but._ Don’t say that about yourself.”

_But Mom, it’s-_

She bites down the thought. “So Mom, any advice?” she asks weakly.

“You’re looking for a way to get a fourth member for the club, get Sayaka and Kyoko back to the people they used to be and repair their friendship, right?”

“Mm-hmm. And Mami-senpai, too.”

“Not a pretty situation,” she comments as she reaches for her glass. She takes a long, slow drink, rattling the ice cubes as as she does so. _“Ahhh.”_

“What I have to tell you may be tough for you to hear,” she continues, setting the glass back down on the table. “Ready?

“Uh-huh.”

“Even if there’s no pretty end to this story?”

To Madoka’s eyes the world seems- _newer_ , somehow, as if she’s an infant again, a blank slate, all her years washed away. “I’m ready.”

“Don’t try.”

Madoka’s eyes go wide. _“What?..._ no… you don’t understand… there _has_ to be a way… I can’t just…”

Junko holds one hand up in a _stop_ gesture as she downs the rest of her glass. When she finishes, she says, “So, just _how_ long you’ve been trying to get through to Sayaka again?”

“Ever since Sayaka-chan quit swimming… so about four years now…”

“And she’s _still_ not taking your advice.”

Madoka shakes her head. “No… she isn’t.”

“If she were going to listen to you, don’t you think she would’ve done so by now?”

 _The lost look in Sayaka’s eyes as she gazed at their old swim club, the phone line falling dead with the words_ but after I beat her I’m done _still heavy in Madoka’s ears, the venom in her voice as she denounced Kyoko, that night at the train station-_

“Well, um, uh… _yes,_ b-but…” Madoka splutters. “I couldn’t _ever_ abandon her!”

“I’m not saying you should.”

“But… then…”

With a leaden smile, her mother says, “It’s hard, I know. But you can’t force anybody to listen to something they don’t want to hear.” She throws her hands up. “And the more you try to _make_ them listen, they more you’ll push them away.”  
“Then what do I _do?”_ she asks helplessly.

“To be their friend? All you need to do is be. When they’re ready to hear what you have to say, they’ll realize you’ve been telling them it all along.” She drains the scotch in her glass with a drawn-out _slurp,_ then reaches for the bottle. “In the meantime, all you can do is wait. Want s’more?”

Madoka looks down at her (still half full glass). “No thanks.” Idly, she traces the beads of condensation frosting the glass, watching as her finger scour away the dew. “But…” She gropes for the words. “If they won’t listen to me, how will they ever be ready to hear?”

“Well, _that_ ,” Junko says with a dry grin, “is simple. I’d imagine that neither of them is very happy with the current situation, correct?”

“Nmm-mmm.” _That’s somewhat of an understatement._

“Then, chances are, _they_ want things to change just as much as you. They’re just afraid.”

“Sayaka-chan...” Madoka muses. “She keeps on _saying_ she’s doing the right thing by quitting, but...”

“But it doesn’t feel right, does it?’

“No,” Madoka says, the word glowing white with surety. “It doesn’t.”

“Then-“ Junko’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and Madoka feels as if she’s learning, for the first time, why everyone says age comes with wisdom- “it’s not right for her either. She just needs to realize it.”

“Are you sure she will?” Madoka asks, her voice suddenly small.

Junko lets out a dry chuckle. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all my years in business, it’s that, eventually, humans will _always_ put their personal happiness over what the believe is right. Trust me, she will.” She takes another swig of scotch. “When the pain of staying where she is outweighs the pain of moving forward- that’s when she’ll change. And there’s nothing you can do to speed it along.” She shrugs. ”And besides, though you might never be able to help Sayaka, there might be someone out there you _can,_ someone willing to learn from you- and you from them.” She smiles. “You never know who you might find.”

Madoka falters, her shoulders an air mattress with a leaky valve. “Helping people like that… that’s all I’ve _ever_ wanted to do, but-“

Junko reaches across the table to take her daughter’s hands once more, caressing them softly, gently. “But you can’t always.”

Madoka nods in silent agreement.

“It’s hard, I know, but that’s life,” she says with a sigh. “And walking the path of self-righteousness- that won’t get you anywhere but miserable.”  
Madoka grins. “So, is that why you’re encouraging underage drinking, Mom?”

“Hey, I can’t have my kids growing up _too_ pure, now can I?”

The two of them laugh, and Madoka feels her heart once more begin to lift. _I don’t know things will be all right-_

Her own words come back to her now as if she’s simply left them outside in the garden after Mami left.

_But we can always have hope._

_***_

_The curtain is raised._

_Behind it, an infinite hallway stretches out in front of her, its every surface painted a dizzying black and white checkerboard._

Where am I?

_There’s no end to the hallway that she can see; the only sign of distance is that the crazy checkerboard squares get smaller and smaller, their lines converging until they reach the vanishing point._

No, _she thinks, fear tightening her lungs._ There _has_ to be a way out… I can’t stay here…

_She takes off running- and runs and runs as the pattern on the walls blurs, running until her vision swims and her knees buckle, until her chest heaves with exhaustion._

_At last, when she can go no farther, the world changes._

_The tight hallway unfolds into an atrium, its high walls lined with a chaotic swirl of stairs and narrow balconies, all clad in the same black-and-white checkerboard pattern. It’s enough to make her head spin._

_Her eyes dart around, searching for an escape, a lifeline, a last chance-_ anything.

 _Please…_ somebody _…_ let me _out…_

 _She’s about ready to give up when she spots it- a glowing green sign, bringing color, bringing_ light _to the shadowed vortex of the atrium. It bears but one word:_ EXIT.

I’m safe!

_She darts up the stairs- her eyes wide, her heart a drumbeat- and pulls open the door._

_Straight into a hurricane._

_The slate-black clouds above her head twist and churn, the ominous vortex hanging almost low enough to touch, as if the very sky has fallen to earth to crush the world under its belly. Beneath the clouds, a swirl of debris flies, the harsh gale tearing the cityscape apart, shattering it into dust on the wind._

_Madoka’s heart clenches, terror turning to ice in her veins._ This can’t be happening… it _can’t_ be…

 _A blinding-white bolt of lightning splits across the sky,_ _followed by an earsplitting_ crack!  _of thunder that shakes the ruined city to its roots._

_Crouched inside the doorway, Madoka covers her ears, squeezes her eyes shut, and tries and fails to stop herself from trembling._

_It’s a long time before she can look again._

_She snatches a breath, forces her eyes open, and turns back towards the storm._

_Nestled within the tempest stands a girl, about Madoka’s age or a little older, with a lithe, delicate figure and long, glossy black hair falling past her waist._

_Purple eyes meet pink, and Madoka’s heart leaps in her throat._

_The girl mouths one word:_ Madoka, _before finally disappearing into the storm…_

Madoka’s eyes snap open.

Sunlight streams into her room, turning it into a vibrant garden of pink and green.

She sits up with a long yawn and s a stretch, careful not to disturb Gogo-chan nestled beside her.

… _A dream?_

_Guess I did wind up getting a good night’s sleep after all._

The goggles sit right where she left them, the bright red seeming to smile up at her, telling her, _Come, Madoka. The bright day awaits._

“I’m coming,” she mutters sleepily, before realizing that talking to swim goggles is not a great sign of one’s sanity.

_Great._

***

“Now,” Saotome-sensei says with the air of someone discussing brain surgery, stepping forward and giving her pointer a sharp _crack!_ as she does so, _“_ when frying an egg, should it be done sunny side up or over-hard? Nakazawa-kun!”

“Well, um, ah…” Nakazawa splutters, his face turning red, before finally blurting out, “I bet Tomoe-san makes excellent eggs!”

A soft snickering beside her catches her attention, and Madoka turns to see a red-faced Sayaka just about doubled over from holding in her laughter, her shoulders shaking with every breath.

_To see you smiling more again- it makes me really happy._

She wonders if it’s fleeting.

 _I’d take all of your pain if I could, Sayaka-chan, every last milligram of it, if you’d only just_ let _me…_

Madoka’s thoughts swim as her mother’s words from last night course through her mind.

_But you won’t… will you?_

She reaches inside her bookbag to give her goggles a squeeze. _If our friendship pouring worked- if miracles and magic really exist- then show me the way._

“…And boys,” Saotome-sensei is saying, “you’d best not grow up to be so _unbearably, atrociously picky_ as to be the kind of man who ends a _perfectly happy_ relationship _just_ because he doesn’t like the way his _eggs_ are done.”

Sayaka shoots her a _and_ this _is the person we picked as our advisor_ glance. “Guess it didn’t go so well,” she mouths to Madoka.

“Well!” Saotome-sensei exclaims briskly. “Now that that’s out of the way, I’d like everyone to give a warm welcome to our new transfer student. Come on in, Akemi-san!”

“Shouldn’t that have come first?” someone mumbles.

The transfer student- Akemi-san- walks in.

 _She’s_ beautiful, Madoka thinks, her eyes going wide.

Judging by the reverent hush that’s dawned on the classroom, broken only by a few _ooohs_ and _ahhhs,_ it’s not an unpopular sentiment

Beautiful in an odd way, though; delicate and sharp, striking and soft all at the same time, carrying her lithe, impossibly slender frame with all the grace of a dancer or royalty or both, her long, glossy, velvet-black hair fanning out behind her with every step.

 _A midnight waterfall,_ Madoka thinks, wondering what it would be like to run her hands through the other girl’s lovely dark hair, wondering if it’s every bit as smooth as it looks…

The red glasses perched upon the bridge of her nose bring her down to earth, almost; a reminder that this girl, with her ghostly-white skin and night-dark hair and inhuman grace is _real,_ not an errant spirit trapped in the mortal realm, nor a china doll brought to life by a spell…

The girl steps to the front and looks Madoka straight in the eye.

Purple eyes meet pink, and Kaname Madoka feels a chill run down her spine.

_It’s the girl from my dream!_

The world around them falls away, leaving nothing but Madoka and the transfer student, locked together by a gaze. By a heart.

_This must be destiny, right? If I met her in a dream…_

_We were_ meant _to meet. I’m sure of it._

Butterflies race in her stomach, now, their wings fanning her heartbeat to a fever pitch, sending her flying and falling at the same time, lost to the other girl’s brilliant amethyst eyes.

Lost, or found.

The light catches in the other girl’s glasses, hiding her eyes, and Madoka ducks her head, trying to wish away the blush spreading across her cheeks.

“My name is Akemi Homura. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Her voice- it’s more than cold.

It’s ice itself.

Madoka shivers.

“Akemi-san was in the hospital for quite a while due to a heart condition,” Saotome-sensei says, writing out the characters of her name on the board, “so she hasn’t been in school recently. I want everyone to pitch in and show her the ropes, okay?”

With her piercing stare and icy, refined demeanor, Akemi-san certainly doesn’t _look_ like she needs anyone to show her the ropes. But anyway.

Wordlessly, she stalks over to her seat.

And that’s when Madoka remembers to pick her jaw up off the floor, one thought coursing through her mind:

 _Someone so graceful… she’d make an_ excellent _swimmer_.

***

The steady chatter of break time vibrates through class 2-A; a rain of students talking, laughing sharing gossip with friends. In one corner of the classroom, Akemi Homura sits at her desk, surrounded by a gaggle of fans, looking to all the world like an empress holding court.

Madoka’s eyes flit from Homura and her entourage to her right to Sayaka to her left, her stomach still thinking that the former is the human embodiment of a roller coaster drop. “Sayaka-chan?” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Do I look alright?”

Sayaka looks her up and down. “You look… normal, I guess. Why?”

“Um, thanks…” Madoka reaches in her bag and pulls her phone out, snaps a pic of herself and texts it to Mami. _do I look weird or anything mami senpai?_

“Who’re you texting?”

“Um, no one?”

Sayaka grins. “Aw, c’mon. Lemme see.”

Madoka feels a blush rising in her cheeks. “Seriously. It’s not important. So what do you think of the new transfer student? D’you think she’d be good in the swim club?”

_“Really? Her?”_

Madoka’s heart falls to the floor with an undignified _plop._ “You don’t like her, do you.”

“Well, okay. She-“

“Kaname Madoka-san?”

 _Speak of the devil,_ Sayaka mouths.

Madoka turns to see Homura looking down at her, her face shadowed. “Saotome-sense told me that you are the nurse’s aide for this class, correct?”

She just about jumps out of her seat. “Huh? Oh, um, uh…” she stammers, wondering why no one ever gets struck by lightning when it’s convenient. She nods as if her brain was a maraca. “Y-yes. Yes, I am.”

_Smooth, Madoka, Real smooth._

_Can I just, like, disappear from this plane of existence please? Like, right this minute?_

Homura pushes up her glasses. “May I ask you to escort me to the nurse’s office?”

“Oh! Um, okay, sure…” Madoka splutters, her cheeks red, fireworks going off in the pit of her stomach. “Follow me-“

Her words are cut short by the realization that Homura’s already turned to leaver, her dark hair billowing out behind her like a cape.

As she scurries to catch up to Homura a loud _slap_ comes from behind her.

It’s the sound of Sayaka’s forehead connecting with her palm.

***

The two of them walk together through a world of glass, Homura silent and cold, Madoka trying in vain to make conversation.

“So… you’re Akemi Homura, right?”

No response.

Madoka mentally kicks herself. _Of_ course _she knows her own_ name _…_

“I think that’s a _really cool_ name! It’s like you’re a phoenix, bursting into dazzling flame…” Her voice trails off.

Still no response.

 _It totally suits you, ‘cause you set my heart on fire!_ she thinks but doesn’t say.

She’s _not_ that shameless

Not shameless at all, really.

The two of them pass onto the Skywalk, a skinny bridge of metal and glass connecting the two halves of the school.

Being in it is, more often than not, likened to being inside a hall of mirrors, as the amount of light coming in through the windows and the sheer, unadulterated _shine_ of the walls and floor make it one of the brightest places in the school.

In the center of the Skywalk, Homura comes to a dead stop.

From her regal bearing, one might assume she has stopped to give Madoka an important declaration, some important life lesson or piece of earth-shattering news, perhaps.

In truth, the reality is far more mundane.

This being Akemi Homura’s first time setting foot into Mitakihara High, she has little knowledge of the layout, after all.

She has simply come to the realization that she has _absolutely no freaking idea where she is going._

And Madoka, her feet still on autopilot, promptly walks _straight_ into her.

They both stumble, and Madoka drops her bookbag, filling the shimmering floor of the Skywalk with dozens of leftover Kyubey-chan keychains.

“What’s this?”

Madoka looks up from gathering her belongings to see Homura holding one of the keychains at arm’s length, the stem pinched between her thumb and forefinger.

“Oh… um… see, my friends and I have been trying to start a swim club here, and anyway…” Madoka says, a nervous grin on her face. “And that little guy’s our mascot! His name’s Kyubey-chan- isn’t he cute?”

“It looks like it’s going to suck out my soul.”

Madoka sweats. “Hehe… funnily enough, that’s what Sayaka-chan said too…”

She takes a deep breath. “So about that swim club-“

Adrenaline wiring her veins, she swallows hard and looks Homura straight in the eye. “Homura-chan, would you like to join?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woop there it is


End file.
